diff options
Diffstat (limited to '24679-8.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 24679-8.txt | 3587 |
1 files changed, 3587 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/24679-8.txt b/24679-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..dfdb155 --- /dev/null +++ b/24679-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3587 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Lilith, by Ada Langworthy Collier + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Lilith + The Legend of the First Woman + +Author: Ada Langworthy Collier + +Release Date: February 23, 2008 [EBook #24679] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LILITH *** + + + + +Produced by Irma Spehar, Markus Brenner and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + + LILITH + + + THE LEGEND OF THE FIRST WOMAN + + + BY + ADA LANGWORTHY COLLIER + + + BOSTON + D. LOTHROP AND COMPANY + FRANKLIN AND HAWLEY STREETS + + + + + COPYRIGHT, 1885. + D. LOTHROP & COMPANY. + + + + + PREFACE. + + + That Eve was Adam's second wife was a common Rabbinic + speculation. Certain commentators on Genesis adopted this view, + to account for the double account of the creation of woman, in + the sacred text, first in Genesis i. 27, and second in Genesis + xi. 18. And they say that Adam's first wife was named Lilith, + but she was expelled from Eden, and after her expulsion Eve was + created. Abraham Ecchelensis gives the following account of + Lilith and her doings: "There are some who do not regard + spectres as simple devils, but suppose them to be of a mixed + nature--part demoniacal, part human, and to have had their + origin from Lilith, Adam's first wife, by Eblis, prince of the + devils. This fable has been transmitted to the Arabs, from + Jewish sources, by some converts of Mohamet from Cabbalism and + Rabbinism, who have transferred all the Jewish fooleries to the + Arabs. They gave to Adam a wife formed of clay, along with Adam, + and called her Lilith, resting on the Scripture: 'Male and + female created He them.'"--_Legends of the Patriarchs and + Prophets.--Baring Gould._ + + Lilith or Lilis.--In the popular belief of the Hebrews, a female + spectre in the shape of a finely dressed woman, who lies in wait + for, and kills children. The old Rabbins turned Lilith into a + wife of Adam, on whom he begat demons and who still has power to + lie with men and kill children who are not protected by amulets + with which the Jews of a yet later period supply themselves as a + protection against her. Burton in his _Anatomy of Melancholy_ + tells us: "The Talmudists say that Adam had a wife called Lilis, + before he married Eve, and of her he begat nothing but devils." + A commentator on Skinner, quoted in the _Encyclopædia + Metropolitana_, says that the English word _Lullaby_ is derived + from Lilla, abi (begone, Lilith)! In the demonology of the + Middle Ages, Lilis was a famous witch, and is introduced as such + in the Walpurgis night scene in Goethe's "Faust."--_Webster's + Dictionary._ + + Our word _Lullaby_ is derived from two Arabic words which mean + "Beware of Lilith!"--_Anon._ + + Lilith, the supposed wife of Adam, after she married Eblis, is + said to have ruled over the city of Damascus.--_Legends of the + Patriarchs and Prophets.--Baring Gould._ + +From these few and meagre details of a fabled existence, which are all +that the author has been able to collect from any source whatever, has +sprung the following poem. The poet feels quite justified in dissenting +from the statements made in the preceding extracts, and has not drawn +Lilith as there represented--the bloodthirsty sovereign who ruled +Damascus, the betrayer of men, the murderer of children. The Lilith of +the poem is transferred to the more beautiful shadow-world. To that +country which is the abode of poets themselves. And about her is wrapt +the humanizing element still, and everywhere embodied in the sweetest +word the human tongue can utter--_lullaby_. Some critics declare that +true literary art inculcates a lofty lesson--has a high moral purpose. +If poets and their work must fall under this rigorous rule, then alas +"Lilith" will knock at the door of public opinion with a trembling hand +indeed. If the poem have either moral aim or lesson of any kind (which +observe, gentle critic, it is by no means asserted that it has), it is +simply to show that the strongest intellectual powers contain no +elements adverse to the highest and purest exercise of the affectional +nature. That, in its true condition, the noblest, the most cultured +intellect, and the loveliest, sublimest moral and emotional qualities, +together weave the web that clothes the world's great soul with +imperishable beauty. The possessor of highest intellectual capacity will +be also capable of highest developments in the latter qualities. The +woman of true intellect is the woman of truest affection. For the rest +let Lilith speak, whose life dropped unrecorded from the earliest world. +It is the poet's hope that the chords of the mother-heart universal will +respond to the song of the childless one. That in the survival of that +one word _lullaby_, may be revivified the pathetic figure of one whose +home, whose hope, whose Eden passed to another. Whose name living in the +terrors of superstitious peoples, now lingers in Earth's sweetest +utterance. That Pagan Lilith, re-baptized in the pure waters of maternal +love, shall breathe to heathen and Christian motherhood alike, that most +sacred love of Earth still throbbing through its tender lullaby. + + A. L. C. + + + + + TO VALERIA. + + + Broideries and ancient stuffs that some queen + Wore; nor gems that warriors' hilts encrusted; + Nor fresh from heroes' brows the laurels green; + Nor bright sheaves by bards of eld entrusted + To earth's great granaries--I bring not these. + Only thin, scattered blades from harvests gleaned + Erewhile I plucked, may happen thee to please. + So poor indeed, those others had demeaned + Themselves to cull; or from their strong, firm hands + Down dropped about their feet with careless laugh, + Too broken for home gathering, these strands, + Or else more useless than the idle chaff. + But I have garnered them. Yet, lest they seem + Unworthy, and so shame Love's offering, + Amid the loose-bound sheaf stray flowers gleam. + And fairer seeming make the gift I bring, + Lilies blood-red, that lit the waving field, + And now are knotted through the golden grain. + Thou wilt not scorn the tribute I now yield, + Nor even deem the foolish flowers vain. + So take it, and if still too slight, too small + It seem, think 'tis a bloom that grew anear, + In other Springtime, the old garden wall. + (That pale blue flower you will remember, dear. + The heedless world, unseeing, passed it by, + And left it to the bee and you.) Then say, + "Because the hands that tended it are nigh + No more, and little feet are gone away + That round it trampled down the beaded grass, + Sweeter to me it is than musky spray + Of Southland; and dearer than days that pass + In other summer-tides." This simple song + Read so, dear heart; Nay, rather white-souled one, + Think 'tis an olden echo, wandered long + From a low bed where 'neath the westering sun + You sang. And if your lone heart ever said + "Lo, she is gone, and cannot more be mine," + Say now, "She is not changed--she is not wed,-- + She never left her cradle bed. Still shine + The pillows with the print of her wee head." + So, mother-heart, this song, where through still rings + The strain you sang above my baby bed, + I bring. An idle gift mayhap, that clings + About old days forgotten long, and dead. + This loitering tale, Valeria, take. + Perchance 'tis sad, and hath not any mirth, + Yet love thou it, for the weak singer's sake, + And hold it dear, though yet is little worth, + This tale of Elder-world: of earth's first prime, + Of years that in their grave so long have lain, + To-day's dull ear, through poets' tuneful rhyme + No echo hears, nor mocking friar's strain. + + _July_ 17, 1884. + + + + + LILITH. + + BOOK I. + + + Pure as an angel's dream shone Paradise. + Blue mountains hemmed it round; and airy sighs + Of rippling waters haunted it. Dim glades, + And wayward paths o'erflecked with shimmering shades, + And tangled dells, and wilding pleasances, + Hung moist with odors strange from scented trees. + Sweet sounds o'erbrimmed the place; and rare perfumes, + Faint as far sunshine, fell 'mong verdant glooms. + In that fair land, all hues, all leafage green + Wrapt flawless days in endless summer-sheen. + Bright eyes, the violet waking, lifted up + Where bent the lily her deep, fragrant cup; + And folded buds, 'gainst many a leafy spray-- + The wild-woods' voiceless nuns--knelt down to pray. + There roses, deep in greenest mosses swathed, + Kept happy tryst with tropic blooms, sun-bathed. + No sounds of sadness surged through listening trees: + The waters babbled low; the errant bees + Made answer, murmurous; nor paled the hue + The jonquils wore; nor chill the wild breath grew + Of daisies clustered white in dewy croft; + Nor fell the tasseled plumes as satin soft + Upon the broad-leaved corn. Sweet all the day + O'erflowed with music every woodland way; + And sweet the jargonings of nested bird, + When light the listless wind the forest stirred. + Straight as the shaft that 'gainst the morning sun + The slender palm uprears, the Fairest one-- + The first of womankind--sweet Lilith--stood, + A gracious shape that glorified the wood. + About her rounded shoulders warm and bare, + Like netted sunshine fell her lustrous hair; + The rosy flush of young pomegranate bells + Dawned on her cheeks; and blue as in lone dells + Sleep the Forget-me-nots, her eyes. With bent + Brows, sullen-creased, swart Adam gazed intent + Upon a leopard, crouched low in its place + Beneath his feet. Not once in Lilith's face + He looked, nor sought her wistful, downcast eyes + With shifting shadows dusk, and strange surprise. + "O, Love," she said, "no more let us contend! + So sweet is life, anger, methinks, should end. + In this, our garden bright, why dost thou claim + Ever the highest place, the noblest name? + Freely to both our Lord gave self-same sway + O'er living things. Love, thou art gone astray! + Twin-born, of equal stature, kindred soul + Are we; like dowed with strength. Yon stars that roll + Their course above, down-looking on my face, + See yours as fair; in neither aught that's base. + Thy wife, not handmaid I, yet thou dost say, + 'I first in Eden rule.' Thou, then, hast sway. + Must I, my Adam, mutely follow thee? + Run at thy bidding, crouch beside thy knee? + Lift up (when thou dost bid me) timid eyes? + Not so will Lilith dwell in Paradise." + "Mine own," Adam made answer soft, "'twere best + Thou didst forget such ills in noontide rest. + Content I wake, the keeper of the place. + Of equal stature? Yea! Of self-same grace? + Nay, Love; recall those lately vanished eves, + When we together plucked the plantain leaves; + Yon leopard lowly stretched at my command + Its lazy length beneath my soothing hand. + At thee she snarled, disdaining half, to sheathe + 'Neath thy soft pleading eyes her milk-white teeth. + Oft, Love, in other times, in sheltered nook, + We scattered pearly millet by the brook. + Lo thine lay barren in the sand. Quick mine + Upspringing sifts o'er pale blooms odors fine: + Hateful thy chidings grow; each breeze doth bring + Ever thy plaints--thy fretful murmuring. + These many days I weary of thy sighs; + Know, Lilith, I alone rule Paradise." + Thereat he rose, and quick at every stride + The fawning leopard gambolled at his side. + So fell the first dark shadow of Earth's strife. + With coming evil all the winds were rife. + Lone lay the land with sense of dull loss paled. + The days grew sick at heart; the sunshine failed; + And falling waters breathed in silvery moan + A hidden ail to starlit dells alone-- + As sometimes you have seen, 'neath household eaves, + 'Mong scents of Springtime, in the budded leaves, + The swallows circling blithe, with slant brown wing, + Home-flying fleet, with tender chattering, + And all the place o'errun with nested love-- + So have you come, when leaves hung crisp above + The silent door. Yet not again, I ween, + Those shining wings, cleaving the air, have seen + Nor heard the gladsome swallows twittering there-- + Only the empty nests, low-hung and bare, + Spake of the scattered brood.--So lonely were + To Lilith grown her once loved haunts. Nor fair + The starlit nights, slow-dropping fragrant dew, + Nor the dim groves when dawn came shifting through. + Far 'mong the hills the wood-doves' moan she heard, + Or in some nearer copse, a startled bird; + Or the white moonshine 'mong green boughs o'erhead + Wrought her full heart to tears. "Sweet peace," she said, + "Alas--lies slain!" + With musing worn, she brake + At last her silence, and to Adam spake: + "Beyond these walls I know not what may be-- + Islands low-fringed, or bare; or tranquil sea, + Spaces unpeopled, wastes of burning sands, + Green-wooded belts, enclasping summer lands, + Or realms of dusky pines, or wolds of snow, + Or jagged ice-peaks wrapt in purple glow, + Or shadowy oceans lapped in fadeless sheen-- + Yet there were Paradise, were Lilith queen. + To dally with my lord I was not meant; + To soothe his idle whims, above him bent, + Warm in my milk-white arms, lull his repose, + Nor deep in subtle kisses drown his woes. + Wherefore, since here no more dwells love, I fly + To seek my home in other lands. For why + Should Lilith wait since Adam's empty state + More dear he holds than Lilith desolate?" + But answer soft made Adam at the word, + For faint his dying love, yet coldly stirred + Its ashen cerements: "Nay, love, our home + Within these garden walls lies safe. Wouldst roam + Without? Sweet peace, by loss, wilt thou restore + One little loss, or miss it evermore?" + "In goodly Eden, Adam, safely bide, + But I, for peace, nor love, nor life," she cried, + "Submit to thee. Unto our Lord I own + Allegiance true; my homage his alone. + Oft have I watched the mists athwart yon peaks, + Pursuing oft past coves and winding creeks, + Have thought to touch their shining veil outspread, + In happy days ere Love, alas, was dead; + So now, farewell! Ere the new day shall break + Adown their gleaming track, my way I take." + She turned; but ere the gate that looked without + She reached, one fleeting moment paused in doubt + Upon a river's brink. In one swift glance + All coming time she saw. A weird romance + Wherein she traced great peoples yet unborn, + New springing cycles, strange lands cleft with tarn + Or pleasant vale, and green plains stretching far, + And quiet bays, and many a shingly bar, + And troubled seas, with bitter perils past, + And elfin shapes that jeering flitted fast + With scornful faces, leering lips that smiled, + Or bursts of laughter through that vision wild. + Uncertain, then, she stood, half loth to turn. + "Against yon deepening sky, how dimly burn + The stars, new-lit. Dear home, thou art so fair!" + She fondly sighed. + Then sudden she was 'ware + The angel near her paused, whose watchful care + Guards Eden's peaceful bounds. Serene, his air + So tender-sweet, so pure the gentle face, + She scarce dared look upon its subtle grace. + Sad were his eyes; his words, rebuking, fell + Soft as the moonshine clear, in sleeping dell. + "My sister, go not hence, lest these gates bar + Lilith forever out. From peace afar, + Anger and pride shall lead through distant ways + Thy feet reluctant, in the evil days. + All is decreed. At yonder southern gate + Behold! waits even now my princely mate. + Thou can'st not tell which hath in our far land + The highest place. Nay; nor, indeed, whose hand + Hath grasped the noblest fame; nor yet divine + Whose brows enwound with honor, brightest shine. + In pleasant labor lurks no thought of pain; + The greatest loss oft brings the noblest gain; + The heart's warm pulse feels not one throb of strife, + And Love is holiest crown of human life. + Ere thou didst sleep, beyond the rim of night + I heard a voice that sang. The carol light, + Scarce earth-born seemed. So sweet the matchless strain, + Its cadence weird, lowly to breathe again, + Wrapt echo, listening, half forgot; and o'er + And o'er, as joyous birds unprisoned soar, + The free notes rose. And in the silence wide, + Across the seas, across the night, I cried: + O sinless soul, whose clear voice blithely rings + 'Gainst the blue verge of stars! 'Tis Lilith sings + The happy song of love. O Love! the tint + Of light divine thou wearest. Thou hast no hint + Of storm or turmoil, or of Sin's rough ways, + Whose feet to heaven climb, through darkest maze. + Ah, Lilith, sure the love that basely weighs, + That stoops to count its gifts, and hoarding, says, + 'Such and so many, these indeed are mine; + I hold my treasure dear, nor covet thine;' + This is not love; 'tis Thrift in borrowed dress, + Deceiving thee. Love giveth free largess + With open hand, clean as the whitest day; + Yea, that it gave, forgetteth it straightway. + Beyond these walls dwells bliss that lives not here? + When thou hast bartered peace, outshining clear + And storm-tossed wide, art wildly driven hence, + The outer world gives thee no recompense. + Each shining sphere that trembles in blue space + Hath orbit true--its own familiar place. + Nor doth the planet pale that gems the night + Reel wanton down, the smallest star to smite. + No twining vine, tendril, or springing shoot + Ere taught thee so; for bud and leaf and root + Doth its best self lift upward into light, + Yet climbing still, scorns not the sacred right + That shrines its fellow. + "So pattering rains + The dark roots drink--and healthful juice slow drains + Deep 'neath the mould; and with their secret toil + Bear stainless, leaf and flow'r above the soil. + Noblest the soul that self hath most forgot; + Strongest the self which hath most humbly wrought; + Purest the soul that in full light serene, + Unquestioning, enwrapt, God's field doth glean. + I have seen worlds far hence; thy tender feet + Bleeding, will tread their stony ways. And sweet + Is love. And wedded love, grown cold and rude, + More bitter-seeming makes dull solitude. + Security is sweet; and light and warm + The young heart beats, close shut from every harm." + "Yet," Lilith answered slow, "in that still night + Ere He, the garden's Lord, passed from our sight, + Hast thou forgot his words? 'Lo this fair spot + Made for your pleasance; see ye mar it not, + Oh, twin-born pair! So richly dight with grace + Of soul and stature; unto whom the place + I give. Together rule. Bear equal sway + O'er all that live herein.' Hath Lilith sought + A solitary reign? Hath she in aught + Offended? Nay; 'tis Adam who doth break + The compact. Therefore, unhindered let me take + My way far hence. I shall not vex his soul + With fretful plaints, where unknown stars shall roll, + Far, far away," she sighed. + "Yet ere these bounds + Thy feet pass, linger. Lilith, list glad sounds + That greet thine ear. Slow cycles will pass on + And in the time-to-be-bright years, grow wan; + Old planets fade, new stars shall dimly burn, + But not to Eden's peace shalt thou return. + Oft from thy yearning heart glad hope shall fail. + Thy fruit of life lift bloom all sere and pale. + Certain, small comfort bides, when joy is gone, + In Great or Less. Grim Sorrow waits to lead thee on. + Sorrow! Thou hast not seen her pallid face. + In thy most troubled dream she had no place"-- + "Nay, I depart," she said, with lips grown chill. + "Fearless and free, exiled, but princess still." + "I may not hinder thee," the Angel sighed; + "No soul unwilling here may ever bide." + Slow swung the verdant gates neath saddest eyes. + _Lilith forever lost fair Paradise._ + + + + + BOOK II. + + + Soft stealing through the shade, and skirting swift + The walls of Paradise, through night's dark rift + Lilith fled far; nor stopped lest deadly snare + Or peril by the wayside lurked. + The air + Grew chill. Loud beat her heart, as through the wind + Echoed, unseen, pursuing feet, behind. + + Adown the pathway of the mist she passed, + And reached a weird, strange land at last. + When morning flecked the dappled sky with red, + And odors sweet from waking flowers were shed, + Lilith beheld a plain, outstretching wide, + With distant mountains seamed. + Afar, a silvery tide + The blue shore kissed. And in that tropic glow + Dim islands shone, palm-fringed, and low. + In nearer space, like scarlet arrows flew + Strange birds, or 'mong the reedy fens, or through + Tall trees, of unknown leafage, glancing, went. + Now Lilith seaward passed, and stooping, bent + Her hollowed hand above the wave, and quaffed; + For she was spent with wanderings wide. Loud laughed + She then, beholding on that silent shore + Rare shells, that still faint in their pink lips bore + Wild ocean-songs; and precious stones, that bright + That dim sea's marge, deep in the land of night + Thick strewed. + Then glad, she lifted shining eyes, + Loud crying there, "O Lilith, now arise, + Great queen-triumphant! See how wildly fair + Before me lies my realm! And from its air + Soft, sensuous, new life as ruddy wine, + My spirit drinks. Nor beauty so divine + Hath Eden's self. Look, where upon the sands + The garish mosses spread with dainty hands, + Like goblin network fine, each fairy frond. + And dusky trees shut in broad fields beyond, + And hang long trembling garlands, age-grown-gray, + From topmost boughs adown, athwart the day; + And sweet amid these wilds, bright dewy bells + Ring summer chimes. And soft in fragrant dells, + 'Mong tender leaves, great spikes of scarlet flaunt + About the pools--the errant wild bees' haunt-- + And thick with bramble-blooms pink petals starred, + And dew-stained buds of blue, the velvet sward. + Scarce ripple stirred the sea; and inland wend + Far bays and sedgy ponds; and rolling rivers bend. + A land of leaf and fruitage in the glow + Of palest glamours steeped. And far and low + Great purple isles; and further still a rim + Of sunset-tinted hills, that softly dim + Shine 'gainst the day. "O world, new found," she said, + "With treasures heaped and odors rare, 'mong flowers shed, + For whose dear sake I came o'er flinty ways, + And paths with danger fraught; 'mong brambly sprays, + With bleeding feet, and shoulders thorn-pierced deep. + But perils past, fade fast. And I will weep + My Eden lost no more." And sweet and low + As one who dreams, she said, "For now I know + These mountain heights, these level plains, are mine." + She ceased, and inland quickly turned. "Fair shine + Strange fruits thick-set, or blossoms lightly tossed + Low at my feet." Therewith, a dusk globe, crossed + With golden bands, from bent boughs, stripped she. Through + The gleaming sphere its nectrous juices drew, + And thirsting cried--as one grown drunken: "Mine + These fruits unknown, in thorny combs that shine, + Or gray-green spikes that glow, dull on the sands. + Fain would I pluck, out-reaching eager hands, + Save that a marvel grows of ruddier rind + Out-flinging fruity breath upon the wind, + Beneath harsh spines half-hid. Nor drains + My wilful spouse such nectars fine. Nor gains + His patient care the fruitage rare, these plains + That heaps unheeded. Nay, nor bearded grains + Golding this goodly land, where Lilith reigns." + + So passed the glad years on, and o'er her home-- + Its woods and mountains, its clear streams--to roam, + She loved. The inmost throb of Nature's heart + She felt amid the grass. Each daintiest part + Of Nature's work she knew; each gain, each loss. + And reverent watched on high the starry cross + Gleaming, mute symbol in that southern dome + Of One--the Promised One--of days to come. + + The rifted sea-shell on the shingly beach + She scanned, pitying each inmate gone. Each + Named. 'Mong beetling crags, the sea-bird's home, + Light-footed, went. Or, idly, in the foam + Under the cocoa-palms, her fingers dipped, + Much marveling to see where featly slipped + Beneath the waves scaled creatures, crimson-dyed + Or luminous: Barred-yellow, purple pied, + Rose-tinted, opaline, or dight with stain, + Rich as the rainbow streaks, when through the rain + The Sun's kiss falls. Much wondered she when bright + By sedgy pools, flamingoes stalked. And light + The startled ostrich bent his headlong flight + O'er desert bare. And on the woody height + Trooped zebras, velvet-brown. The date's green crest + Beneath, the peaceful camels lay at rest. + And slender-straight camelopards the boughs + Down-drew, the lush-green leaves thereon to browse. + Or oft 'mong oozy bogs, or through the fens, + Fearless she went, when low, 'mong reedy dens + The water-courses by, huge creatures slept, + Or in the jungles spotted panthers crept, + And in the thickets deadly serpents wound + Like blossomed wreaths, their coils upon the ground. + All forms of life she saw; with tenderest care + Uplifting humblest sprays, or blooms most rare. + Pierced the deep heart of Nature's subtlest lore, + Touched highest knowledge, probed the inmost core + Of hidden things. She tracked each circling world + And the wide sweep of billows lightly curled. + Each page the Master writ she read, close furled + In lotus blooms, or, 'mong the storm-clouds whirled; + Or traced, star-lettered, on the flaming scroll + The night unwinds toward the southern pole. + And sometimes wiling idle days, she wove + In quaint device, gems from her treasure-trove, + Rare garlanded, or set in flashing zone + Soft emerald, sapphire pale, and many a stone + Out-gleaming amethyst. Her yellow hair + Among, the glinting diamonds shone. And there + The sultry topaz burned. And laughing, twined + She round her bare white throat red rubies shrined + In pearls. + Or she among the haunts would rove + That sheltered island birds; or in the grove, + Or 'mong the rocky cliffs, where dainty nests + They fashioned swift. She scaled the seaward crests, + And on the sands piled turtle eggs, when all + About hoarse-shrieked the water-fowl, or call + Of plovers fell among the tangled glens, + Or lonely bitterns' boom came o'er the fens. + So traversed she her realm, when mangoes green + Baobabs by, showed freshest hues; and sheen + Of silver touched acacias slight; and lone + The solitary aloes, dreamed. The moan + Of that far sea against the shore brake soft. + And through that blossom-burdened land as oft + She roamed and far, sweet sped the passing days. + Till one dawned fairest, in whose noon-tide haze + Sweet slumbering she lay; and dreamed-steeped still, + Half conscious, caught the tinkle of a rill + In far-off Paradise. More silver clear + Across her thoughts, as once she loved to hear, + Rippled the waters, low against the stones + Where poised gemmed dragon-flies; and sudden moans + Shook 'mong blue flags. Waked, vague unrest + And tender yearning rose within her breast, + And longing love, that she ne'er more might still. + When late upon her parting day smiled chill, + Pensive she gazed upon the darkling land, + With lingering feet o'er-passed the shining strand, + And silent sat on an o'erhanging ledge, + The sea o'erlooking. Far the horizon's edge + Athwart her gaze a rim of blue hills cleft, + Whereat she sighed. "So rose, ere I them left, + So smiled, the dim hills round my Eden home. + But I--wherefore recall, when far I roam, + Dreams vanished--gone? And now since long time dead + Is that fair past, I fain would lay it low + Where soft about it memories sweet may blow + As summer winds the fallen leaves among." + Then passed her tender thoughts, and loud and glad + As our morn wakens, strong that yesternight slept sad, + She sang. The song triumphant upward swelled, + Unsorrowed by soft dreams or thoughts of eld-- + As fresh the full, free, mellow notes did rise + As the blithe skylark's strain, anear the skies: + + High, high, bold Eagle, soar; + I watch thy flight, above thy craggèd rock. + Below thee, torrents roar, + Down-bursting wild with angry shock + Upon the vales. O proud bird, free, + My spirit, mounting, follows thee, + Still follows thee, still follows thee. + + O Sea--O Sea so wide! + Far roll thy waves ere yet they find thy shore. + I hear thy sullen tide + Break 'neath the beetling cliffs with muffled roar. + Afar, afar, O moaning Sea, + My roving soul still follows thee, + Still follows thee, still follows thee. + + O Whirlwind black--O strong! + Thy scorching breath fierce burns the crouching land + And thou dost sweep along + The raveled clouds. O Whirlwind, see-- + My spirit rising, follows thee, + Still follows thee, still follows thee. + + Nay, nay! My dauntless soul, + Still higher than thy wing, O Eagle, soars, + And wider still than roll + Thy waves, and further than thy shores, + My spirit flees--O Sea--O Sea + No more it follows, follows thee. + + Whirlwind, more strong than thou + My soul, that fearless leaps to thine embrace + And thy stern, wrinkled brow + Doth tender touch and soothingly, + And vassal art thou still to me, + That no more, Whirlwind, follows thee. + + Swift changed her mood, and darkened in her face. + As sometimes in an open, sunny place + The sudden dusks o'er crinkling waters run, + So fell her thoughts to music. And as one + That grieves, she sang. That lay--soft, weirdly clear, + The babbling waves made murmurous pause to hear: + + Fair land (she sang), O sun-steeped realm of mine, + The Sun, thy lover, hath his farewell kiss. + I only pine + While dim stars shine. + + Strong is thy Day-god! yet his parting kiss + Falls soft upon thy faltering lips. O land, + Thou hast a bliss + I ever miss. + + Fast comes the night, and warm, for thy dear sake, + The shadows curtain dusk, thy lonely rest. + I only wake + My plaint to make. + + Fair land, my lover cold, doth careless take + From my shut lips his flight. Here leaves me lone + My moan to make, + My heart to break. + + She ceased. But still the song did float and fade, + As failing sunshine soft, in woodland glade. + And Lilith, listening, heard--so wild, so shrill, + Yet dream-like, far, again that tinkling rill + In Paradise. And o'er her spirit swept + A sadness bitter-sweet, as 'neath the green palms crept + The wind, low-sighing, faint. As from lone nest + A bird torn pinion lifts, striving to soar + To shelter safe, so, Edenward once more + Turned Lilith's drooping thoughts. + Uprose she then, + And brooding, homeward slowly went again. + + + + + BOOK III. + + + Wide through her realm she walked, and glad or lorn + She mused. So, loitering, it chanced one morn + When lone she sat upon a mountain height, + One sudden stood anear, whose dark eyes bright + Upon her shone. Pallid his face, and red + His smileless lips. "Who art thou?" Lilith said, + And faint a hidden pain her hot heart stirred, + When low, and rarely sweet, his voice she heard. + She looked, half-pleased--and half in strange surprise + Shrank 'neath the gaze of those wild, starry eyes. + "Oh, dame," the stranger said, "where waters leap + Bright glancing down, I rested oft, where steep + Thy Eden o'er, bare-browed, a peak uprose. + Naught craving bloom or fruitage--nay, nor those + Frail joys Adam holds dear. One only boon + I sought of all his heritage. Fair 'neath the moon + I saw thee stand; and all about thy feet + The night her perfume spilled, soft incense meet. + Then low I sighed, when grew thy beauty on my sight, + 'Some comfort yet remains, if that I might + From Adam pluck this perfect flower. Some morn-- + If I (some dreamed-of morn, perchance slow-born) + This flawless bloom, white, fragrant, lustrous, pure + For ever on my breast might hold secure.' + Yea, for thy love, through darkling realms of night + I followed thee, sharing thy fearful flight + Unseen. Lo, when thy timid heart, behind + Heard echoing phantom feet upon the wind, + 'Twas I, pursuing o'er the day's last brink; + Wherefore, I now am here. O Lilith, think + How over-much I love thee, and how sweet + Were life with thee! O weary naked feet, + With me each onward path wilt thou not tread? + Or, if thou endest here thy quest," he said, + "Let me too bide with thee." + Made answer low + Lilith thereto: "Meseems not long ago + One stood at Eden's gate like thee. But thy face + Is darker, red thy lips. Of kingly race + I know thee. Say, whence comest thou, O prince?" + "Nay, then," he sighed, "an outcast I, long since + From Heaven thrust out; yet now, the curse is past, + Nor mourn I Heaven lost, if at the last + Thy love I win. Yea, where thou art, I know + Is Heaven. And bliss, in sooth" (oh, soft and low, + He said), "lives ever in thy smile." + His speech + Thus ended. And toward the sandy beach + He passed. Though long her eyes the stranger sought + Where curved the distant shore, she saw him not. + + Soft through the trees the mottled shadows dropped + When Lilith in her pleasance sat. Half-propped + 'Gainst mossy trunk her slender length. Her hair + In sunny web, enmeshed her elbows bare. + Slowly the breeze swayed the mimosas slight + As Eblis pushed aside the bent boughs light. + "O dame," he said, "it seemeth surely meet + Earth's richest gifts to lay at Lilith's feet; + Therefore I said 'unto the fairest one, + Things loveliest beneath the shining sun + I bring.' Since of all crafts in this young earth + I am true master, unto her whose worth + So much deserves, I bear this marble sphere, + Whose hollowed husk, well polished, gleaming clear, + Hides rarest fruit." Therewith the globe he showed, + The half whereof smooth-sparkling was: Half glowed + With carven work; embossed with pale leaves light, + And delicately sculptured birds in flight, + And clustered flowers frail. Lilith drew near + With beaming eyes, and laid the graven sphere + Against her smiling lips; o'ertraced the vine + That circled it with fingers slim. "Mine, mine + Is it, O prince?" she cried. "I know not why + Its beauty doth recall the winds' long sigh + That surged among the palms. Methinks is dead + Some summer-tide, that in its own sweet stead + Hath left upon the stone its imaging." + Eblis replied: "On earth, is anything + More fair? If such thou knowest, Lilith, speak. + That I, for thee, surely would straightway seek. + Say, if indeed thou findest anywhere, + On land or sea, created things so rare?" + And Lilith answered, "On this earth so round, + Naught else so lovely anywhere I found. + So shames it meaner work--so had I said-- + But see yon nodding palm that droops its head + Low sighing o'er the wave. Bring me a bough + So feathery-fine. Turn thy white sphere! Now + On its cold, fair surface, Eblis, canst thou + Such branches carve, or tender fronds, that we + Bright waving on the cocoa, these may see?" + And Eblis wrought till grew upon the stone + Such airy boughs as on the cocoa shone. + Then Lilith cried: "Skilled craftsman, proven thou! + Didst thou, then, make my cocoa-tree? Thy bough + Pale graven give the grace of its green crown + When through it night winds gently slip adown. + No charm of color, nor of change, nor glow + Of blue noon sky, thy carven work doth show; + Let dusk bees visit it--or sip the breath + From thy chill marble buds." Then, Lilith saith, + "Eblis hath wroughten noblest on this earth." + He answered quick, "Poor bauble, little worth + To Lilith! Ope thy slighted husk, reveal + The miracle thy rough rind doth conceal!" + + He touched a hidden spring, and wide apart + The riven sphere showed its white hollow heart, + And in the midst a gem; the which he laid + Within her hand. "Behold," he said, "I made + Most fair for thee this lustrous blood-red sard, + And deftly traced its gleaming surface hard + With carvings thick of bright acacias slim, + Pomegranates lush and river-reeds. Its rim + A spray of leaves enchased, white as with rime + Night fallen. 'Slow drags the lagging time,' + I said, 'till one day shines upon the breast + Of her, whose perfect beauty worthiest + It decks, this gem.' The token, Lilith, take; + If lovelier there be, for Eblis' sake + Keep silent; yet with me, oh Lilith, go + Awhile from thine own land. Then shall I know + The gem finds favor in thine eyes." + Then she + Turned from her pleasance and all silently + Passed to the sea, across the yellow strand + That, glimmering, ringed her shadowy land. + "Oh cool," he said, "the lucent waves that fret + The barren shore, and curl their scattered spray wet + 'Gainst thy hand. Come! my longing pinnace waits + To bear thee far. Her slender keel now grates + Upon the beach; and swift her shapely prow + Will skim the deep, as swallows' fleet wing. Thou + Seest! comely and strong it is. For thee + Its golden sails, its purple canopy. + With skin of spotted pard, I cushioned it. + Ere the fresh breeze doth die, light let us flit + Across the sea. No craft so proud, so staunch, + Goes glancing through the foam. I safely launch + Her now, and speed to fairy isles. Come thou + With me." And glad she crossed the burnished prow; + And 'mong the thick furred rugs sat down. "Oh craft, + Fair fashioned, lightly built, speed far," she laughed; + "To other lands bear Lilith safe." + As sailed + They idly on, her slender hand she trailed + Among the waves, and sudden cried, "Indeed, + A craft stauncher than thine floats by. What need + Hath it of helm, or prow, or silken sail, + Sure harbor finding when the ocean gale + Fast drives it onward?" A nut she drew, round, + Rough, coarse-husked, forth from the wave. "Lo, I found," + She said, "this boat well built. The cocoa-tree + Cast it amid the foam. Its pilot free, + The summer wind; its port, the misty shore + Of ocean isles. It fades from sight. 'No more,' + We say, 'it sails the wild uncertain main,' + But when the drifting days are gone, again + We turn our prow, and reach the barren isles + Where, stranded as we went, the nut. Now smiles + Above; a bending tree. Aloud we cry, + 'A miracle is wrought!' We draw anigh. + Behold, the cocoa, towering, doth spring + Forth from the brown nut's heart. About it cling + Sweet odors faint; and far stars trembling peep. + When through its bowers cool the breezes creep. + Strong, indeed, thy boat, well builded! I wis + There be yet other craft as firm, Eblis, + That o'er these trackless waters boldly glide. + Brave Nautilus afar, doth fearless ride, + With sails of gossamer. So, too, doth spread, + To summer airs, his silken gleaming thread, + The water-spider fleet, free sailor true + That in the sunshine floats, beneath the blue, + Glad skies. And through the deep, all sparkling, slip + A thousand insect-swarms, that, rippling, dip + Amid the merry waves. Bright voyagers + That roam the sultry seas! Look, the wind stirs + Our creaking sails! Thy pinnace flying o'er + The ocean's swell, fast leaves the fading shore; + Yet faster still the Nautilus sails by, + And darts the spider quick. And swifter fly + The insect-fleets among the foam; yet think + Not when among the billows wild doth sink + Thy bounding boat, I fear. Nor would I slight + Thy skill, that made it strong, and swift, and light, + And trimmed it gayly, for my sake." + Now near + A jutting shore Prince Eblis drew, where sheer + The brown rocks rose. And just beyond, a slim + Beach of white sand curved to the ocean's brim. + Thereto he came, and high upon the strand + Drew the boat's keel. "Welcome, fair queen, to land + That Eblis rules," he said. "I fain would show + Thee what thou hast not seen in the warm glow + Of thy glad home. This blighted shore of mine + No verdure hath, nor bloom, nor fruits that shine + 'Mong drooping boughs. Far inland gloom lone peaks + O'er blackened meads; or from their bare cones leaps + Gaunt, crackling flame; or crawl like ashen veins + The smouldering fires across the stricken plains. + Deep in these yawning caves black shadows lie + That shall be lifted never more. Come, I + Enter! Know thou what treasure by the sea + I gathered other time." Therewith showed he + Hid 'mong the high heaped rocks a dusky grot + Where never sunshine fell. A dismal spot + Where dank the sea-weeds coiled and cold the air + Swept through. And stooping, Eblis downward rolled + Before her webs of woven stuff, in fold + Of purple sheen, enwrought with flecks of gold. + Great wefts of scarlet and of blue, thick strewn + With pearls, or cleft with discs of jacinth stone; + And drifts of silky woof and samite white, + And warps of Orient hues. Eblis light + Wound round her neck a scarf of amber. Wide + Its smooth folds sweeping flowed; and proud he cried, + "Among these hills, in the still loom of night, + I wrought for Lilith's pleasing, all. And bright + Have spun these webs, in blended morning hues + And noontide shades and trail of silver dews-- + Hereon have set fair traceries of cloud-shine + And tints of the far vales. The textures fine + Glow with sweet thoughts of thee. And otherwhere + Hast thou such fabrics seen, or colors rare + As these?" Dawned in her eyes a swift delight, + And low she cried, "Oh, wondrous is the sight, + And much it pleaseth me. But yet," she said, + "Beside my knee one morn, its hooded head + A Hagè reared. Its gliding shape so near + To subtler music moved, than my dull ear + Could catch. Its velvet skin I gently strake, + Watching the light that o'er its heaped coils brake + In glittering waves. Within its small, wise glance, + Flame silent slept, or quick in baleful dance + Before my startled gaze quivering did wake. + Fair is thy woof, soft woven, yet the snake + Out-dazzles it. The beetle that doth boom + Its dull life out among the tangled gloom, + Lift his wide wing above thy weft, or trail + His splendor there, and thy poor web will pale; + Yea, the red wayside lily that doth snare + The girdled bee, is softer still, more fair + Than finest woven cloth." But tenderly + She smoothed the gleaming folds. "Much pleaseth me, + Natlhess," she said, "such loveliness." Then brought + He tapestries of fleeces fine, well wrought + In colors soft as woodland mosses' tinge, + Or glow of autumn blooms: Heavy with fringe + Of downward sweeping gold; arras, where through + Showed mottled stripes, or arabesques of blue, + Broad zones of red, and tender grays, and hue + Of dropping leaves. "Lilith," he said, "when rolled + The storm-tossed billows round these caves, behold + I spun these daintily. 'Twere hard to find + Such twisted weft or woven strand." "Oh, kind," + She said, "is Eblis, unto whom I fain + Would give due thanks. His gorgeous train + But yesterday I saw the peacock spread; + Bright in the sun gleamed his small crested head; + His haughty neck wrinkled to green and blue, + And since I needs must truly speak, I knew + Not color rich as his: and I have seen + The curious nest among the branches green, + The busy weaver-bird plaits of thick leaves, + And in and out its pliant meshes weaves; + And since thou sayest 'twere hard to match thy fine, + Strong, woven fabrics, watch the weaver twine + His cunning wefts. Though still," she said, "think not + I scorn thy gifts, Prince Eblis; for I wot + Their worth is greater than my tongue can say." + Then Eblis deeper in the cave led her a little way, + And showed a stately screen of such fine art + One almost felt the breeze that seemed to part + The pictured boughs. And o'er the stirless lake + Dreamed the swift, wimpling waters sudden brake + Among the willows on its brink--and flowers + Of scarlet, shining-clean from summer showers; + And Eblis said, "Cold praise a friend should spare + This picture true. Certain naught else will dare + Vie with such beauty." + Archly Lilith took + The rose from her bright hair, and lightly shook + The dewdrop from its heart. "I loving, touch," + She said, "these petals smooth. O, Eblis, such + Give to thy painted blooms; give its cool sheen + Of morningtide, the mossy, lush leaves green + That fold it round. Give its faint, fragrant breath, + When with the fickle breeze it dallieth. + Nay, fairer still my rose than gilded screen, + Though it be limned with perfect art, I ween." + Thereat smiled Eblis bitterly. "I bring + One parting gift," he said, "a dainty thing; + Perchance in other time it will recall + One who strove long and patiently through all + These days to win thy praise." An oval plane + Of crystal gave he her; of fleck or stain + Clear-gleaming. Of ivory carven fine + The frame. And when she looked, "Divine," + He laughed, "the beauty it enshrines. Canst claim + Aught else is fairer?" And Lilith again + Gazed in the glass, her face beholding there, + Her pink flushed cheeks, her yellow streaming hair. + Quick came her breath. "O prince," she slowly said, + "Fair is the stranger. Bid those lips so red + Speak once to Lilith. For methinks the voice + Of such in music flowed. Let me rejoice + Therein." "O glorious counterfeit!" cried + He. "Lovelier is not on this earth wide! + Behold, sweet Lilith, 'tis thine own pure face + That lends my happy mirror perfect grace + It else had not. Bid thou thine image speak! + No other happiness I elsewhere seek, + If the soft tale she whispers be of me." + And Lilith answered gravely, "I know thee, + Eblis. Master indeed of all crafts thou-- + Red Sard, and marble sphere, and agile prow + Of pinnace light well wroughten were by thee + And decked full fair. And, beauteous to see, + Fine woven weft and web, and the tall screen + O'errun with painted bloom, crystal, with gleam + Of Lilith's face--thou madest these. Mayhap + Beetle and asp likewise didst tint--didst wrap + The green about my rose, and richly fringe + My cocoa-tree, or peacock's train didst tinge + With dazzling hues. Methought thou wert a prince, + But now Lilith should humbly kneel, since + Thou art far higher than she deemed, if thou + Madest these wondrous things." And lowly now + As she would kneel, she drew anigh. But he + Cried, shrinking, "Nay, I made them not." And she + Low questioned, "Eblis, tell me who then, did make + Them all. Who set the creeping hooded snake + And stealthy pard within the thorny brake, + And spread the sea, and wreathed the waterfall + With foam? Who reared the hoar hills, towering tall + Above the lands?" With eyes wild flashing, low + He groaned: "O Lilith, ask me not. My foe + He was--he is. Trembles with wrath my frame + If I but faintly breathe his awful name." + Lilith replied, "Meseemeth, master true + Of every craft is He." + Forth the two + From that drear cavern passed. Ere the water's brim + They gained, he plucked the wilding reeds, that slim + Stood by a brook. "My pipe I make, one strain + Harmonious to wake. Nor yet again + Shalt thou such fresh notes hear. Music like mine + Methinks thou hast not known in any time." + He laid his pipe unto his lips, and blew + A blast, wild, piercing, sweet. The far hills through + It rung. And softer fell, yet wild and clear. + It ceased. With drooping eyes, "Once I did hear + A song as wildly clear, as sad," she said, + "In mine own realm." And as she spoke, dark dread + The sky grew with a coming storm. "Oh, haste," + He cried; "seek refuge ere this dreary waste + Reeks with the rain!" And fast they sped + Back to his ocean-cave. There safe, o'erhead + They watched the piling clouds. With angry roar + The baffled billows broke upon the rocks. O'er + Them rushed the shrieking storm. Wild through the grot + Wandered the prisoned wind, a troubled ghost that sought + Repose. Or low did moan, and trembling, wail, + Like some sore-hearted thing that hideth, pale, + And dare not front the day; and wilder still, + In chords melodious, swelled or sank, until + She sighed, "Oh, this weird harp among the caves, + Strange players hath! For loud as one that raves, + It rises. Now more sweetly fade away + Its mellow notes than thy thin pipes." "One day," + He said, "mayhap my strain may please, when wind + Doth not outpipe my slighted reeds. Unkind + Thou art." "The storm is past; to mine own land + I would return," she said. And Eblis o'er the strand + Led her. And homeward silent turned his prow + That swiftly through the swirling waves did plow. + But when they parted, Eblis mused, "I know + No gift soever winneth her, rich though + It be and seemly. Into this pure soul, + Through fear of ill, I enter; or by goal + Of future gain before it set." + So came + He to her pleasance yet again. A flame + Leaped high above a brazier that he bore, + Its sweet, white, scented wood quick lapping o'er. + With darkened face Eblis above her hung. + "This hath, than my poor pipe, a keener tongue," + Smileless and stern, he said. "Oh, dame, + List how the wild, crisp, crackling ruby flame + Eats through the tender boughs. A trusty knave + It is, that serves me well, and loud doth rave + As tiger caged. When I do set it free, + With angry fangs leaps on its prey. But see, + It now sleeps harmlessly, till Eblis calls + His faithful servant back. Lilith, when falls + The red fire at thy feet, dost fear?" "Nay, nay," + She cried, and drew her white neck up. "A way + To tame it thou hast found. Believe me, since + It is thy slave I too will bind it, prince. + Should Lilith fear? Unfaltering, these eyes + Have watched when rushing storm-clouds heaped the skies, + And the black whirlwind, with loud, deafening roar, + Beat the torn waves; or whirled against the shore + The tumbling billows, with fierce lips that bit + The shrinking land. And the wreathed lightnings split + The cloud with thunder dread: or wildly burst + Upon the sea the water-spout. Shall first + She fear thy flame, who feared not these?" "Fit mate + Art thou for Eblis," answered he. "His fate + Share, great-souled one. Thou wouldst not meanly shrink, + Though his strong heart did fail. O Lilith, think! + The crown of clustered worlds thou mayest find, + If thou with him who loveth thee wilt bind + Thy life." "Nay, far happier seems to me + Than eagle caged, the wild lark soaring free," + She said. And through her rose-pleached alleys strayed + They to the sea. And tender music made + That guileful voice; yet slow his wooing sped + Those summer days. But when were dead + And brown the crisping leaves, "Oh, love," he said, + "Of all the centuries, thou rarest bloom, + Thy shut heart open wide. Its sweet perfume, + Though I should die, fain would I parting drink. + Sleeps yet thy love? From me no longer shrink, + My Lilith. Oh, lift up thy tender eyes; + In their blue depths doth happy morning rise; + 'Tis night if they be closed." + She softly sighed; + And ancient strife recalling, thus replied: + "When dwelt a prince discrowned, well satisfied? + And fallen, loving, still art thou a prince, + And otherwhiles might sorrow bring me, since + It might hap thou wouldst much desire her realm, + Were Lilith thine; for princes seize the helm + When Love lies moored, and bid the shallop seek + Across the waves new lands. But Love is weak, + And so, alas, the craft upon the sands + Is dashed, while one, on-looking, wrings her hands. + Such days I have outlived. Like Adam, thou + Perchance will seek to bind the loosed. Then how + (If one hath drunken wine of liberty) + Shall she, athirst, rejoice; no longer free, + Be glad?" + "My love," he said, "large-hearted lives, + Full dowers thee, and royal bounty gives, + Nor knoweth law, save Lilith's wish alone." + "Why, then," she answered, "on the polished stone + That fronts yon hill, write, Eblis, in full day, + That other time we read it clear, and say, + 'Hereon are graven all those early vows + We whispered low aneath the summer boughs,' + Write every word. That so the stone shall be + Ever a witness mute twixt thee and me. + Then shall I know thou seekest in me no thrall + For after-days, if thou make compact. All + Thou hast said, write now." + Then on the stone, + As she had said, graved Eblis, and thereon + Did set his seal. So wedded they: and hand + In hand the wide world roamed. Or in her land + Abode. And oft, of hours, ere yet on earth + He walked, she questioned. Or he loosed with mirth + Her yellow hair, down-streaming o'er his arm; + And 'gainst his cheek her breath came sweet and warm; + As through his dusky locks caressing played + Her fingers slim; and shadows, half afraid, + She saw in his wild eyes. + Or paths remote + They trod, watching the white clouds rise and float + Athwart the sky. Or by the listless main, + Or 'neath the lotus bough, slow paced the twain. + Or dragon-trees spread their cool leafy screen. + And faint crept odors through the mangroves green, + Where paused the pair upon the sandy shore. + Love-tranced, unheeded, swiftly passed them o'er + Glad summer days: till one hour softly laid + At Lilith's feet a fair, lone babe, that strayed + From distant Dreamland far. So might one deem + That looked upon its face. Or, it might seem + From other climes, a rose-leaf blown apart, + Down-fluttered there, to gladden Lilith's heart. + + + + + BOOK IV. + + + To that fair Elf-child other summers came; + But Lilith walked, heart-hungered, filled with shame, + Naught comforted. And in that shadow-land + She sorrowing bore, in after-time, a band + Of elfin babes, that waked dim echoes long + Forgotten there, and ghastly bursts of song. + Then Lilith saddened more, for that she knew + The curse was fallen now. And cried she through + Fast-falling tears, "Oh, me most desolate, + That shall not know in any time the fate + Of happier mothers! Nay, nor cool touch + Of baby hands. Oh, longed-for, loved so much! + Alas, my babes, ere yet hour-old ye fly, + Out-spreading shining wings with jeering cry, + Afar from me. Most hapless I, from whom + The crown of motherhood, yet white with bloom, + Falls blighted! Close in these empty arms fain + Would I clasp my babes! My tender pain + But once could ye not solace? Nay, 'tis vain; + I shall not kiss their lips, nor hear again, + As gladder mothers may, low-rippling, sweet, + The laughter children bring about their feet. + Oh, soulless ones, can ye not wait awhile, + 'Till on your loveless lips I wake one smile?" + But merrily out-laughed the phantom crew; + On shining pinions white, swift seaward flew, + Or upward rose, slow-fading in the blue; + Or lured her trembling, green morasses through. + And 'mong the frothy waves they vanished fast; + Or shrieked with glee borne on the wintry blast, + And wilder raised their warlock song. + While fairer grew each day that elfin throng. + + To pluck the mangoes brown, fair Lilith sped + One morn. Quick throbbed her heart. On mossy bed + Lay all her babes. With face like morning, shone + One there, and wide her yellow hair out-blown + As 'twere in play. Red-flushed her cheeks, and deep + About her lips the baby smiles. Asleep + Was one, white-gleaming, pure as pearl unseen + In sunless caves, close-shut. And one did lean + Against his fellow, lithe, sun-flushed and brown, + With rings of jetty hair that low adown + His bosom streamed. And one there was, whose dream + O'erflowed with laughter. And one did seem + Half-waking. One, with dimpled arms in sleep + Thrust elbow-deep in moss, that sure did weep + Ere yet he slept, and on his cheek scarce dried + The wilful tears. + Then low, pale Lilith cried + As near she drew, down-bending tender eyes: + "And are ye here, my babes; and will ye rise + If I but break your sleep?" His naked feet + One faintly moved as low she leant; and warm + His slumbrous breath stirred 'gainst her circling arm, + And slow aneath his closed lids slipped a waft + Of wind, that loosed a trickling tear. Its craft + The mother-heart forgot thereat. "At last, + Close to my breast, my babes," she cried, and fast + Laughing, outstretched her eager hands and strong. + Then lay with empty arms. + The elfin throng + Breasted the pulsing air with mocking song. + "Alas," she said, "could ye not give one kiss-- + One tender clasp of hands! And must I miss + Your throbbing hearts from my cold, barren breast, + Ye soulless ones, that flout my lonely rest?" + + There, prostrate, long lay Lilith, and there, late + 'Mid dew-fall, Eblis found his stricken mate. + "O Eblis, say o'er me what curse hangs bare, + For now no more," she said, "this realm seems fair. + Its fruits grow bitter, all its light falls chill. + With thee, my prince, poor Lilith mates but ill-- + Earth-born, with angel linked. Alas, is left + No joy to me, of my sweet ones bereft. + Methinks soft baby lips might erewhile drain + From Lilith's famished heart its wildest pain. + Wherefore, my Eblis, it were wise to seek + Surcease of grief. That Lilith, is so weak + Who wedded thee; and that she sinned, knew not. + Yet, if we part, mayhap may follow naught + Of other ills." + "Sweet love," he laughed, "o'er-late + Thou art so timorous. At Eden's gate + Not so, what time the angel barred her way + My Lilith stood. Shelter within my arms. Oh, say, + Was not our young love sweet? Hath it grown cold? + With me thou sharest endless life; nor old, + Nor shrivelled, shalt thou be. And not one trace + Of earth's decay (sure doom of thy sad race) + Shall taint thy babes. For lo, I give + Thy soulless ones immortal youth. They live + Without a pang. And yet, methinks the cry + Of Earth adown the ages sounds, when die + Its babes; and mothers bend dumb lips above, + And fold still hands, that answer not their love. + Lilith, doth not indeed my love outweigh + Caresses missed from phantom babes? Astray + From Eden long, here in this fair domain + To bide; and through long cycles fearless reign + Methinks were joy. In summer sheen + Wide spreads thy land. The marge of islets green + The palm-trees skirt. Soft shine the dusk lagoons + And inland mountains. Mirk the jungle's glooms, + And fair thy fertile plains. Oh, sweet the glow + When we together watch the day, that low + Among the winds lies still. Shut lilies blow + While here we wait. Come, for they fain would show + Their golden hearts. Or, love, with me to float + Were it not sweet, through flowery bays remote, + Past coves and peaks? Or pierce yon ocean's verge, + And through wild tumbling waves our sails to urge?" + "Yea, sweet is love," she said, "and sweet to roam + By listless currents lulled; or 'mid the foam + Low dip our feathery oars," she sighed, "yet sore + Is still the mother-heart that hears no more + The lisping tongues. And sad, when baby smiles + Have left it desolate. And baby wiles + Shall cheer it never more." + "Yet," Eblis said, + "Lilith, no longer mourn. For I have read + Upon a scroll as samite glistening white, + All coming fate, close hid from human sight, + Great peoples yet shall dwell in these dusk lands. + Then shall thy children, shadowy bands + That fly thy fond caress, with them abide + In closest fellowship. And though they hide + Sometimes from human ken their better selves, + Still loved, remain these tricksy elves. + Though yet indeed some quips and pranks they play, + 'Tis but a jest, men know, when far away + The flickering marsh-fires swift they light + And children follow their false tapers bright + Among the spongy bogs. The ship-lad smiles, + When distant 'mid the waves the phantom isles + Rise green. 'Tis but a harmless jest that sets + On lonely plains, domes, mosques, and minarets, + And o'er the desert sands, mirage uplifts + When glimmering waves shine through deep rifts + Of crested palms. + "Still dearer they when wide + To undiscovered lands men boldly ride + Across new seas, and turn their venturous prows. + When tempests shriek, and wet about their brows + The salt spray dashes fierce, one, watching, cries, + 'Good mates, no storm I fear, for yonder rise + The Elf-babes 'mid the foam. Ye goblin crew, + That sail these unknown seas, we follow you + To harbor safe. Ho, ho! With beckoning hands, + Wind-driven, loud they cry--My mates! the lands, + The golden lands we seek, are ours!' + + "In Earth's brown bosom pent, the hardy wight + Long in deep caverns dwells; and hard doth smite + The rocky caves. Nor sees the golden spoil + Through weary days of wasted, lonely toil. + From his wild eyes, far-flying hides the prize, + Till desperate, angered, worn, aloud he cries: + 'Vain, vain! The caves my labor answer not, + Nor yellow threads, that gleam in any grot. + Hard, cruel, silent hills, my strength ye mock, + And seal your treasures close in flinty rock; + So, after toilsome years, sweet wife, I bring + To thee no sparkling love-gift. Nay, nor anything + To cheer our failing time.' + + "Then round him hears + He sturdy blows, and listening, almost fears + He dreams. But swift the echoes rise, and still + More loudly roll, and quick replies the hill. + Reverberant, through all the caverns round, + The uproar swells, and fills the world with sound. + Then lists he once again. 'With lusty shocks + Your hammers ring against the hard-ribbed rocks-- + Goblins!' he boldly shouts, 'smite! smite! ye bring + My treasure forth, dark-beating goblin wing + Among the gleaming caves, whose dusk veins hold + The gold. At last! At last, the ruddy gold!' + + "And lone, in stricken fields, the husbandman + Sits pale, with anxious eyes that hopeless scan + The burning sky. Hot lie the glimmering plain + And uplands parched. 'Behold, the bending grain, + Fair in the springtide, now is dead; and dry + The brooks. If yet the rainfall fail, we die + Of famine sore. No bleating lambs I hear in fold + Safe shut, nor lowing kine; nor on the wold + The whir of mounting bird: Nor thrives about me + Any living thing. So seemeth, end must be + Of striving. Since all the land is cursed, + What matter if by famine scorched, or thirst, + We die?' he saith. + "And thick the warlock swarm + Above his head, wide-spreading dark wings warm, + Fast flitted by. The waiting fields he stands + Among. And laughing, claps exultant hands. + 'Good speed ye, Sprites! that bring the welcome cloud + And pile the vapors thick,' he shouts aloud. + Oh! sweet shall bloom again the bending grain, + And clothe afresh the wide, the wasted plain. + The clouds sweep black. Ha, ha! Against my cheek + The big drops fall. Merry the goblins shriek. + Behold, they mount, they sink, they rise again. + Ho, friendly elves, that bring the longed-for rain!'" + + Thereat, he, smiling, ceased. And when soft crept + The listening stars across the sky, they slept + Untroubled, 'neath the mango-trees. + But when midway + The night was spent, Prince Eblis waking lay. + Soft Lilith's breathing 'mong the droopt leaves stirred. + And he, sore troubled, mused on every word + That Lilith spake ere yet they slept. In all + Foreseeing much of ill that might befall + Their love. "O, queenly soul! Of finer grain + Thou art than angels are. And more in brain + Than man, I hold thee. Sooth, yet taints thee still + One touch of womankind. And since so chill + She finds her babes, must I forego my vow? + For one flaw, Hope's clear crystal break? Oh, how + Ally her cause with mine! So doth she long + For human love--a baby hand is strong + To hurl my empire down. From her soft heart + Red, baby lips can drain revenge, and start + Unbidden tears. And pity wakes to life + When 'mong dead embers she sits lone, and strife + Is done. + "Then, at Regret's dull heels, lo, fast, + Retrieving follows. Happy days long past + She will recall. If so for love she yearn, + Back to her early home once more will turn, + Pardoning her wilful lord. And he again + Shall win the woman I so love, and fain + Would hold forever. Lilith, thou one balm + Of my lost soul in all this world! Shall calm + My sufferings, or love me, any one, save thee, + When thou in Adam's arms forgettest me? + My only love! Nay, then, 'twere surely wise + To shut these baby faces from her eyes, + New seeds of wrath to sow, her hate so feed + That all her rankling wounds afresh shall bleed. + And in her ears 'Good Adam!' will I cry, + Lest she forget Eden she lost thereby. + Yea, 'Adam!' I will laugh. Till her red lips with guile + O'erflow. And she shall curse him loud. With subtlest wile + Safe won, then shall she ever be mine own. + Soul-bound to me in hate, more terrible than death + In hate, that long outlasts Love's puny breath-- + O cunning craft, that with the self-same blow + Forever wins my love, and smites my foe! + + "Last night, when Lilith slept, lest I might mar + Her dreams, from our green couch I rose, and far + Passed silent. Know I not the spell that draws + My feet unwilling, Edenward. Its laws + I may not brave to rend my foe. Nor there + The Angel pass, unseen. The night so fair, + As prone among the glistening leaves I lay, + On Adam shone. Not sad, as on a day + Erstwhile he seemed. And I could almost swear + The sound of silvery laughter on the air + Fell soft. And a fleet footfall 'mong the flowers + Scattered the dew. Yet 'mid those silent bowers + Naught else I saw or heard save rippling flow + Of waters, and the moonshine white. Oh, low + Speak, Eblis, lest aloud the night may tell + Thy secret to the stars. Yet it were well + If lies the hidden cure for Lilith's woe + Close shut in Paradise. + "All would we know, + If we, close hid without those verdant walls, + Together watched. What fate soe'er befalls + I care not, if with me she bide." + Down bent + He o'er her hair, thick with the night-dew sprent. + Soft kissed it, crying, "Love, the morn shines bright. + Waken, my Lilith, now. Through lands of night + Our happy course afar doth ever wend; + Past smiling shores where mighty rivers bend, + Past cove and cape and isle, and winding bay + And still blue mists, that hang athwart the day." + Thereat she rose, and joyously they sped + By broad lagoons where musky odors shed + New blooms. About them coiled long wreaths of vine, + And slim lianas drooped, and marish lichens fine. + And fared they on o'er many a slanting beach + And mountain crest; past many an open reach + And forest wild--till over Paradise + They saw the stars, clear, tender, loving, rise. + Then 'neath the screen of those rose-girdled walls + They hid without, listing the waterfalls, + Or bird belated, twittering to its nest. + So still the spot, the very grass to rest + Seemed hushed. + The garden-close, a clinging rose o'ercrept. + Its lustrous stem without that drooping swept + Thick set with buds as tintless as the snows + On sunless hills, when wild the north wind blows. + + Lilith a-tiptoe stood; upreaching, caught + The swaying boughs. Her eyes with longing fraught + Close scanned her old deserted home. Then came + Upon her spirit sadness, as if blame + Unuttered breathed through those remembered glades + And touched the odors moist 'mong mirky shades. + With wistful gaze, she traced each bosky dell, + Each winding path. And sweet youth's memories fell + About her. + Then was she ware of Adam, slow + Pacing the pleasance-ways. With ruddy glow + Fresh shone his cheeks, and crisp his hair out-blown + By wanton winds. His lips were mirthful grown. + Once he made pause hard by the coppice green + That hid the watcher. Once the leafy screen + So near he passed, from the overhanging edge + He brushed a rose. The hindering hedge + Quick through, in sudden blessing slim white hand + Fain had she reached. "O Eden mine! Dear land," + She sighed. And springing warm the tender tide + Of teardrops gemmed the roses at her side. + + So greets the weary wanderer once more + His early home. The lintels worn, the door + Age-stained; the iris clumps, in sheltered nook; + The mill-wheel rotting o'er the shrunken brook; + The sunny orchard, sloping west; and far + And cold, above his mother's grave, a star-- + Then quick unbidden tears, the heart's warm rain, + O'erflow his soul, and leave it pure again. + So Lilith backward turned to holier days, + Watching through misty tears where trod those ways + Her feet in other times. + Sudden and sweet + Came down those paths a glimpse of flying feet; + A sound of girlish laughter smote the air. + In jealous rage, Lilith uprose to dare + The guarding Angel's wrath. But, silver clear, + The mocking laugh of Eblis caught her ear. + "Thou hast forgot," he said, "this peaceful land, + Living, thou canst not enter." + But her hand + Grasped once again the roses' shining strand, + And 'neath her guileful touch, like scarlet flame + The snowy flowers burned. So, first Earth's shame + Around them set the spikèd thorns. + Long there + Pale Lilith looked, as coldly still and fair + As carven stone. Then, with a fierce despair, + A sense of utter loss, downbending there, + With fingers hot she tore the hedge apart + And laid thereto her face. With sorer smart + She gazed again. For now, the twain at rest + Were laid. Pure as a dream, Eve's sinless breast + A babe close pressed. One pink foot, small and warm, + Among the leaves was hid. One dimpled arm + Aneath her head. + Low Eblis sneered. "I wot + In young Eve's arms my Lilith is forgot. + Oh, soon," he said, "these earth-worms changeful turn-- + From the oped rose when red the shut buds burn." + But wild eyes on the babe she fixed. "Oh, blind," + She cried, "was I. Yea, if the wanton wind + Doth mock, I will not chide. Was it for this + I wandered far, and bartered Eden's bliss? + For this have lost the very bloom of life? + So Adam comfort finds, not knowing strife! + Look you, that fragile thing at Adam's side-- + I heed her not. But Lilith is denied + The treasure she so careless doth possess. + See how the babe, scarce waking, doth caress + The mother! Look! Oh, hear the mother croon + Above her child! Ah, Eblis, love, I swoon-- + I shall not know such joy. Alas, to me + No babe shall come! Accurséd may she be, + Cursed Adam too. Thrice heavy on the head + Of this poor babe my wrong be visited." + So, trembling, she brake off. + "Fast fades the light, + Sweet love. Once more to our dark realm of night + Let us return," he said. + As on fared they + With merry jest, Eblis gan cheer the way. + "Nay, otherwhiles mirth pleased," she said. "Knowest thou + What name she bears, who dwells in Eden now? + When Lilith went, long tarried Adam lone?" + She said. Replied he, "All to me is known + Since that same hour you parted. What befell, + To thee as we wend onward I will tell. + + "Calm morn in Eden streaked the skies with red, + And flushed the waiting hills above the grassy bed + Where Adam, joyless, saw new rise the sun, + Unwinding golden webs night-vapors spun + Athwart low meads. Slow, droning murmurs sent + The waking bees, with bloom and fragrance blent. + Unheeded poured her music blithesome Day + The reedy brooks beside and shallows gray. + For lone to Adam seemed the place, and cold; + The landscape dumb, as one aneath the mould. + For Lilith's sake, no more was Eden fair. + Bloomless the days, the nights bowed down with care. + Oft pacing pathways dim, he saw the gleam + Of strange-faced flowers beside the purling stream, + Or toyed with circling leaves; or plucked the grass, + And watched through rifted trees the clouds o'erpass; + Wide roaming, heard the waters idly break + Far 'gainst the curving beach. + "And grieving, spake, + 'Oh, sweet with thee each hour--each wilding way, + And sweet the memory of each gathered spray. + Could you not wait, dear love? Or come once more? + Yea, 'till you come, vain doth great Nature pour + Her richest gifts.' He paused, and heard alone + Respondent fall, the wood-dove's plaintive moan, + And the spent winds among the scented glades. + Moss-couched beneath the glinting forest shades, + He gazed, when shadows o'er the hills crept light, + Quick vanishing, like phantom fingers white, + Until on mead, and mere, and sounding shore + Eden found voice, sad plaining, 'Never-more!' + Long time he pondered on blue peaks remote + When slow, as stranded ships that listless float, + Moved by the sunset clouds. Or the white rack + Swept o'er the garden walls. + "'Would I their track + Might take,' he said, 'Lilith, so long you stay. + Whom my soul follows sorrowing--alway.' + Thus ever mourned he, comfortless; that so + In after days the Master, in the glow + Of morning-tide, the mother of the race + Gave for his solacement. + "Oh, fair the face + Young Eve bent o'er his sleep. Ere down the glade + The startled fawn leaps swift, her glance dismayed + Questions the hunter, mute. Such eyes--so brown, + So soft, so winning, shy--that looked adown + When Adam waked. Like vagrant tendrils, tossed + Dark hair about her brows. And quaintly crossed + Her hands upon her breast. Less red the dart + That deepest cleaves the folded rose's heart, + Than her round cheeks. Not hers the regal air + Of Lilith lost, the white arms, lissom, bare, + The slender throat; the elbows dimpled deep, whereto + Might scarcely reach Eve's head. + "Yet soft, as through + Some pleasant dream, the summer's spicy air + Stirs odorous 'mong seaward gardens fair, + In southland hid; so, gently, Eve straightway + To Adam's life unbidden came, to stay + Forever there. Sure entrance then made she + Into that heart untenanted by thee. + "So, to some olden house, from whose shut doors + One went erewhile, another comes. Its floors + All empty sees. The lowly threshold worn, + The moss-grown roof, the casements left forlorn. + Amid the shadows round about him stands, + Missing the footsteps passed to other lands, + And whispers tenderly, 'Since here no more + The owner bides, what harm if on the floor + I pass? Good chance it were the clambering vine + About the porch with fingers deft to twine-- + To draw the curtains, ope the door. For who + May know how soon these paths untended, through, + He comes again, with weary, way-worn feet, + Who made aforetime, other days so sweet. + Wherefore, I enter now. For whose dear sake + These vacant rooms, white, fragrant, clean, I make. + And when, world-wearied, he returns, we twain + Perchance together bide. Nor part again.' + So Eve found refuge. Tender love, the spell + Whereby she ruled. Peaceful the pair did dwell. + Fast fled the happy years, till softly laid + In her glad arms the babe--a winsome maid." + He ended there. Between them silence deep + Fell, as they journeyed. And the furthest steep + They crossed, that o'er their shadow-world rose high. + Then saw they level plains, their home, anigh. + And now, seeking her pleasance once again, + They came to their own land. But all in vain + His care. Silent she was, and oft did grieve, + Till Eblis wrathful cried: "Because this Eve + Adam holds dear, art mourning? Still dost yearn + To mate his sordid soul? Or wouldst thou turn + From summer land to Eden walls? + "The man + Belike, ne'er loved thee. So is it young Eve can + His pulses sway. Is she not passing fair? + Her fancies wild, it is her daily care + To bend beneath his ever fickle will. + Red-lipped and soft, she deftly rules him still, + Though he wist not. Yet sweeter Lilith's frown + Than archest smile she wears. Great Soul! The crown + Thou bearest of fadeless life. For fleeting dreams + In Paradise, beside the winding streams, + Wilt thou resign such boon? Thou art, in sooth, + Of mold too firm for Adam's love. In truth + A prince--though fallen--consorts best with thee + Say which were wise, with Eden's lord to be, + Or, shining high, the purer soul, the star + That fadeless burns, and Eblis lights afar? + Were it not grand through endless spaces hurled + With me to drive, above a shrinking world + Our chariot, wide? + "For I foresee when dawn + Dark days upon our foes, and hope is gone. + Wherefore, my Lilith, now, as seems thee good, + Make choice." Thereat she, turning where she stood, + With kisses hung about his neck, and smiled, + Crying, "Thine, Eblis, thine!" So were they reconciled. + + + + + BOOK V. + + + And Lilith oft to Paradise returned, + For fierce within her, bitter hatred burned, + And better, dearer, seemed revenge than aught + She else desired. The coppice oft she sought, + Much hoping direful evil might be wrought + Upon the love that bloomed in Eden. + Wide + Oft strayed fair Eve; the little maid, beside, + Plucking the lotus; or by sedgy moats, + From ribbed papyrus broad, frail fairy boats + Deft fashioning. Or Adam, watching, smiled, + With flowery wreaths engarlanding the child. + And laughed the pair, intent on pleasant toil, + When blithe the child upheaped her fruity spoil-- + Great globes of red and gold. Or roguish face + O'er feathery broods, or in the further space + To count the small blue eggs, she sportive bent; + And far her restless feet swift glancing went. + It chanced one day she watched the careless flight + Of vagrant butterflies, that circled light + Uncertain, high, above a copse rose-wreathed; + Then soft down-dropping, gaudy wings they sheathed + Beside a darkling pool. The copse anear + With yellow buds was strewn. And softly here + She crept, deeming her little half-shut hand + Might snare the fairest of that gleaming band. + Yet ere she touched it, wide its wings outspread + In flight. + + And still she, swift pursuing, sped + Among the groves, till wearied, slept the maid + Deep in the mid-day shadows, lowly laid. + + Without, stooped Lilith. And with fingers swift, + Among the leaves she oped a small green rift, + That she might see the child. The hedge was wet + With starry blooms. Whereto her hand she set + When she awaked, seeing each dainty frond + Of fragrant ferns, dusk mirrored in the pond. + The child came near the copse, much wondering: + From glossy stems the smooth leaves sundering. + And stooping o'er the rift, she saw there, low + Against the hedge, a face like drifted snow, + And soft eyes, blue as violets show + Above the brooks; and hair that downward rolled + Upon the ground in glittering strands of gold. + Mute stood the maid, naught fearing, but amazed. + Then nearer drew, and lingering, she gazed + In those blue orbs. And smiling as she knelt, + The stranger quickly loosed her shining belt + Of gems. Flawless each stone whose pallid gleam + Lit silent nooks, or slept by far-off stream + Unheeded--pale pearls with shimmering light, + From distant oceans plucked, blue sapphires bright, + And diamonds rosy-cold, and burning red + The rubies fine, and yellow topaz shed + Its sultry glow, jasper, dull onyx white, + Sardonyx, rare chalcèdon, streaked with light. + Against her white breast that bright zone she laid, + Then stretched it, flashing forth, toward the maid, + And clasped it round her throat. + A luring strain + She sung, sweet as the pause of summer rain. + So soft, so pure her voice, the child it drew + Still nearer that green rift; and low there-through + She laughing stroked the down-bent golden head + With her soft baby hands. And parting, spread + The silken hair about her little face, + And kissed the temptress through the green-leaved space. + Whereat fell Lilith snatched the babe and fled, + Crying, as swift from Eden's bounds she sped, + And like a fallen star shone on her breast + The child, "At last! at last! thy peaceful rest + Ere long will cease. O helpless mourn, frail Eve, + Uncomforted. O hapless mother, grieve, + Since Lilith far from thee thy babe doth bear! + She leaves thy loving arms, thy tender care. + Nor canst thou follow anywhere my flight, + When far we go athwart the falling night. + Ah, little babe, close-meshed in yellow hair + Thou liest pale! Fear not, thou art so fair, + Much comfort lives in thee." + So ended she, + And onward, hostile lands among, passed fleet + Blue solitudes afar, till paused her feet, + Where highest 'mong hoar climbing peaks, uprose + A mountain crest. + It was the third day's close. + In those untrodden ways there was no sound, + No sight of living thing, the barren heights around. + No hum of insect life, no whirring wing of bird. + Bare rocks alone, all fissured, blotched and blurred + As with red stain of battle-fields unseen. + Far, far below, still vales were shining green. + And leaping downward swift, a mountain stream + Crept soft to sleep, where meadow grasses dream. + Wan, wayworn, there, the babe upon her knee, + Lilith sat down. "O Eve," she said, "on me + The child smiles sweet! Fondle her silken hair + If now thou canst, or clasp her small hands fair. + Thou hast my Paradise. Lo, thine I bear + Afar from thee. See, then! Its transient woe + Thy babe e'en now forgets; and sweet and low + It babbles on my knee. In sooth, not long + Endure her griefs, and through my crooning song + She kisses me, recalling not the place + Whence she has come. Nay, nor her mother's face." + Long time stayed Lilith in that land. More calm + Each day she grew, for soft, like healing balm, + The child's pure love fell on her sin-sick soul. + Now oft among the crags, fleet-footed, stole + The maid, or lightly crossed the fertile plain. + And blithesome sang among the growing grain + That brake in billowy waves about her feet. + But when the wheat full ripened was, and sweet, + She plucked and ate. Thereat a shadowy pain, + A sense of sorrow, stirred that childish brain, + She wist not why. For it did surely seem + Before her waking thought, with pallid gleam + Of other days, dim pictures passed; of wood + And stream, beyond these mountain rims. And stood, + It seemed, midway a garden wide, a tree that bright + Like silver gleamed, and broad boughs light + Uplifted. Like ripened wheat the fruit thereon, + When low the westering sun upon it shone. + Then slow the maid did turn, and silent stand + At Lilith's side. And o'er that mountain land, + Down-looking, mused. Or lifted pensive eyes, + And gaze that questioned if in any wise + She might perceive the land she longing sought; + But of its stream, or garden, saw she naught. + Thereat Lilith with white lips drew more near, + And clasped in her lithe arms the child so dear. + And once again fled swift, a shadowy shape, + Across green fields. And heard, through silence, break + A voice she could not hush, that loudly wailed, + "My babe! Give me my babe!" + And Lilith paled, + And listening, heard, borne ever on the wind, + The tread of feet fast following behind. + Then westward turned, where once among new ways + With Eblis she had trod in other days, + When far they wandered. Thitherward she bent + Her timid steps, the babe upon her breast, + Until with travel worn her noontide rest + She took. And now a land of alien blooms + About them lay, outwafting strange perfumes. + And quaint defiles, that sloped behind a bay; + And level fields; and curly vines that lay + Thick clustered o'er with unripe fruit; and bent + Above them fragrant limes and spicy scent + Of citron and of myrtle all the place + Made sweet, and 'mid the trees, an open space + They saw. + Not far away a broad lagoon + Burned like a topaz 'neath a crescent moon, + For day was parting. Even-tide apace + Drew on, and chill the night dews filled the place. + Upon the waters dusky shadows clung, + And ashen-gray the broad leaves drooping hung; + Low 'mong the marish buds lay one that made + Against the sudden dusk a duskier shade-- + Despairing arms upflinging to the sky, + Smiting the silence with unheeded cry-- + "O mother, childless! Wife--of all bereft! + Alas, my babe, not even thou art left + To comfort me, in these last hopeless days, + Shut out from Paradise. Through unknown ways + I sought thee sorrowing. Oh, once again, + My Adam, come! Is not this gnawing pain + Of punishment enow, that thou unkind + Art grown? Ah, never more shall I thee find? + Alas, I ever was but weak. Alone + I cannot live. Come but again, mine own. + No longer leave me mourning, desolate. + In tears I call thee. Oh, in tears I wait + Thy sweet, forgiving kiss!" + Ended she so + Her plaint. And 'mong the glistening leaves hid low, + Lilith yet fiercer clasped the child + When that lorn mother, tear-stained, weeping, wild, + Poured forth her woe. + As one that wakes to life + From peaceful dreams, leaps quick amid the strife + Of morning hours, so now the maid to pass + From Lilith's arms strove hard. And loosed her clasp, + And turned her shadowed face with plaintive moan + And fond beseeching eyes, where lay her mother lone. + But Lilith hardening, seized the child again, + And from her ears shut out the mother's pain + With wilful hands. + So passed she quick away. + Across the dusky path, low fallen, lay + Pale Eve, till clear she saw the dawn's pure ray, + And as she looked, the voice of one she heard + Anigh. Her heart to sudden joy was stirred. + "Rise up, mine own," he said, "no more apart + We walk." Then she arose, and cried, "Dear heart, + Close hold me. So! Methinks I dreamed we were + Parted long time." + So went, the exiled pair + From home thrust out, together--everywhere. + And oft they journeyed on with sufferings spent + To distant lands. And oft with labor bent + Recalled the olden home, with brimming eyes, + Hemmed in by mountains blue--lost Paradise. + + Meanwhile, to her own realm Lilith long since + Was come, glad greeting Eblis. "O my prince, + I have most bravely done. Our foes full sore + Are smitten now. My guerdon o'er and o'er + Thou wilt bestow, I ween, in kisses warm + As my own southland's breath. For I great harm + Have wrought that hated pair. With feeble moan + Lies Eve in a far land, thrust out. Alone, + Deserted. And whence angered Adam flies + I know not. Nay, nor what new world his eyes + Behold. Nor even if he live. + "But see! + Sleeps on my breast the babe--Eve's babe. And she + Shall know no more its tender, sweet caress, + Soft medicining woe. The wilderness + Uncheered by love, is hers." + And by the sea, + Peaceful abode, long time content, the three, + Save that the child unmurmuring drooped. + Then oft above her Lilith, singing, stooped, + Striving to wake the baby smiles again + About her wee, warm mouth. Vain wiles! And vain + Her loving skill. All still she lay, and pale. + As one at sea pines for a lonely vale + Besprent with cuckoo flowers; the faint wild breath + Of cradled buds, among the cloven elms, and saith, + 'I shall not see that place beyond the seas, + Nor any more pluck red anemones + In windless nooks.' + So seemed the child, and frail + As one that weeps above dead joys. Then pale + Grew Lilith as those wasting lips she pressed + And kissed the filmy eyes, and kissing, blessed + The child. + But Eblis touched the hand so worn, + The faded, wasted face. "Happy, thou mother lorn, + Unseeing her," he said. "This fragile thing + To-day lies on thy breast. To-morrow's wing + Hath brushed it from thy sight." Low Lilith sighed: + "My Eblis, is this death?" And louder cried, + "But thou art wise, and sure some hidden way + From this sore hap canst find. O Eblis, say, + Hast thou no spell whereby the child may live? + O love, my realm thy recompense I give, + If she be healed." + "Nay; not Archangel's craft + Stays fleeting life, or turns Death's nimble shaft," + He said. "Yet if," she mused, "I laid again + The child in young Eve's arms, like summer rain, + The mother's love may yet restore again + This shriveled life. And yet, must I resign + The babe? Alas, my little one! Nay, mine + No more!" Weeping she ceased. + But after, bore + The child far northward; the exiled pair o'er + Many lands long seeking. Till from a crest + Of barren hills Lilith looked down. At rest, + The twain she saw, for it was eventide. + And low they spoke of hidden snares beside + Their unknown path, since unaware fared they + Into this hostile spot. The dim wolds lay + All bare beneath chill stars. And far away + Were belts of pine, and dingy ocean shore, + Like wrinkled lip. Cold was the land, and hoar + With wintry rime. Near by, its leafless boughs + A thorn bush bent, with withered berries red. + At sight thereof Adam, rejoicing, said, + "My Eve, bide here. From yonder friendly tree + The ripe fruit I will pluck and bring to thee." + "Oh, leave me not! This solitude I fear; + The land about is chill," she said, "and drear + It seems to me." But Adam answered, "Nay, + Sore famished art thou, and not far away + It is--nor long I stay." + So parted he. + Not long alone was Eve. Upstarted she + Dismayed. A woman, most exceeding fair, + Beside her stood, with coils of yellow hair, + And blue eyes, calm as sleep among the hills' + Dim lakes. Eve, frighted, shrank. As mountain rills, + Sweet fell the stranger's words. "My sister, one + Is here that glad salutes thee. And since done + Is now my quest, and here my journey ends, + I bring a goodly gift. For elsewhere wends + My pathway, Eve. + "Beside a coppice green, + Brighter than gold, purer than silver sheen, + In a fair garden, once a jewel shone. + With it, compared in all the world, no stone. + And low the Master set it shining clear + Against the hedge, saying, 'When she draws near + She will perceive on whom I do bestow + This moteless gem, that fellow doth not know.' + "Now I without the copse that day was hid. + Soft shone the jewel, as the moon amid + The blue. And in the garden I saw thee, + Where in the midst stood a fair wheaten tree + As emerald green. Its ears, as rubies red, + Fragrant as breath of musk, its odors spread. + And white its shining grains as rifted snow. + I looked again. And in thy fair hand, lo, + Full ripe bright gleamed the yellow wheaten grain. + Thou saidst, 'Though I did eat, I live. No pain + Hath marred this pleasant feast.' + "Then I the more + Desired thy gem. 'All things most goodly pour + On Eve their gifts. But I am famished lone,' + I said. And still against the hedge the stone + Rayed like a frozen tear the pure Night shed-- + The which with trembling hand I seized, and fled + Afar. + "But now upon my soul weighs sore + A dream. A voice called loud, 'Straightway restore + To Eve that which is hers; lest I, that bright + Set it against the hedge, will quench its light. + Yea, I will crumble it and quickly smite + It into dust e'en from thy hand.' Mine eyes + I careless closed. But yesternight 'Arise!' + The stern voice cried. 'Stay not at all. For lo, + I wait not. Lest I scourge thee sorely, go!' + Ah, Eve, though long upon my heart I wore + This jewel rare, behold, I now restore + Thine own!" + Then Eve cried loud, "Ere my heart break, + Give me my babe! Where is she, for whose sake + I sorrowed all these years--the little maid?" + She said, through tender sobs. + And Lilith laid + Apart upon her breast her garment, dyed + In blended hues. And stooping at Eve's side, + Gave back the child. + As one that ending quest + Most perilous, safe harbor sees--at rest + Among green hills--and enters glad therein, + So Lilith was. + So passed she once again + Into her land. + But Eve, like rain + Long pent, upon the child poured swiftly down + Sweet kisses. And again, twixt laugh and frown + Divided, smoothed the baby face, and through + Her fingers soft the silken hair she drew, + And kissed again. + And with a vague surprise + Recalled the stranger's smile, the mournful eyes, + Much marveling whence she fared. And said, "As pale + She seemed as bramble-blooms in Eden's vale." + + When homeward Adam came, the child she set + Upon his knee, saying, "Erewhile I met + An angel. So to me she seemed, as there + She stood. So tall, so yellow-haired, so fair; + And lo, she brought again the babe." + Therewith + She ended low. "Doubtless an angel, love, sith + So you deem her," he replied. And mused on all + Eve told. + And watching, saw a shadow fall + Upon the child. And later, did recall + Those words, sad pondering "so fair, so tall." + But nothing uttered. + + In that land long time + They lingered. And the child slow faded, till + One day Eve frighted cried, "See, Adam, still + She lies! Ah, little one, unseal those eyes! + Rouse but awhile, ere waning daylight flies!" + For she discerned not yet its doom, nor knew + The hour was near. + But Adam, parting, drew + Beneath the thorn, lest he might see the child. + And all the lone hours through Eve, babbling, smiled + Adown. And blew her warm breath o'er the cheeks + So wan. "The night grows cold," she said. "Sleep creeps + Dull on my babe. The night grows cold and chill," + She said. + Nor dreamed aneath those lids closed still, + The death film hung. + A wind uprose, and swept + Among the dry leaves heaped, where lowly slept + The child. Cold grew the night and colder, till + Against the east the dawn glowed daffodil, + Above dun wolds white with new-fallen snow. + So rose the day and widened into morning glow + With rosy tints o'erstreaked, and faintly blurred + With flecks of cloud. + Still lay the child, nor stirred. + Dumb Eve looked down, nor knew Death's pallid masque, + And strove to wake the maid. In vain. Her task + Was done. And as she gazed, a gentle grasp + Soft loosed the dead from that cold mother's clasp, + And Lilith laid the babe in its chill bed-- + Straightened the limbs, and kissed the little head. + And o'er the sleeper, kneeling, she did lean. + Forth from her breast she drew, close folded, green, + A sheath of leaves, bright shining, lustrous--wet + With tears--that in those waxen hands she set. + Then those shut leaves oped slow. And low and frail + Bloomed 'mid the tintless snows a snow-drop pale. + Soft Lilith said, "For this pale sleeper's sake, + O Eve, one kiss bestow. E'en thou canst take + Pity on me. For thee new, happy days await, + But I--I am forever desolate. + For thee fresh love will bloom above this mould; + For thee, in coming years, pure lips unfold; + But I--no more, no more, shall feel the warm + Breath 'gainst my breast. Nay, nor the baby arm + Soft clasping me. Nor see the feet that pass + Like falling music, through the waving grass. + Therefore, one pardoning kiss give e'er I go + To my own land, beyond this realm of snow." + And Eve, uprising, took the hand she gave, + And weeping, kissed; and parted by that grave. + + Stood Adam, after-time, by that small mound. + Low at their feet a sheaf of leaves Eve found, + Wherein white flowers shone. "Oh, like," she said, + "To this was one abloom within the bed + Where lies the child. And fair, O, passing fair, + She was, and tall, with yellow gleaming hair, + And cheeks soft flushed as fresh pomegranate bells; + And dewy eyes, like violets in the dells, + Who came. So, silent passed that stranger fair + Who loved our babe. And e'er I well was ware, + She vanished." + Otherwhiles, "Of alien race + She was," Eve said. "A princess, with a face + Surpassing fair, who trod the pathway bright + Among the mists, beyond the rim of night + To her own land." + And oft in after-time, + When Cain had lain in her young arms, and chime + Of voices round her came, and clasp of hands, + And thick with baby faces bloomed the lands, + Eve silent sat, remembering that one child + Among the snowdrops, in a Northern wild. + And Lilith dwelt again in her own land; + With Eblis still strayed far. And hand in hand + They talked; the while her phantom brood in glee + Laughed overhead. Then looking on the sea, + Low voiced, she sang. So sweet the idle song, + She said, "From Paradise, forgotten long, + It comes. An elfin echo that doth rise + Upward from summer seas to bending skies. + In coming days, from any earthly shore + It shall not fail. And sweet forever more + Shall make my memory. That witching strain + Pale Lilith's love shall lightly breathe again. + And Lilith's bitter loss and olden pain + O'er every cradle wake that sweet refrain. + My memory still shall bloom. It cannot die + While rings Earth's cradle-song--sweet lullaby." + + Slow passed dim cycles by, and in the earth + Strange peoples swarmed; new nations sprang to birth. + Then first 'mong tented tribes men shuddering spake + Dread tales of one that moved, an unseen shape, + 'Mong chilling mists and snow. A spirit swift, + That dwelt in lands beyond day's purple rift. + Phantom of presage ill to babes unborn, + Whose fast-sealed eyes ope not to earthly morn. + "We heard," they cried, "the Elf-babes shrilly scream, + And loud the Siren's song, when lightnings gleam." + Then they that by low beds all night did wake, + Prayed for the day, and feared to see it break. + + When o'er the icy fjords cold rise white peaks, + And fierce wild storms blot out the frozen creeks, + The Finnish mother to her breast more near + Draws her dear babe--clasps it in her wild fear + Still closer to her heart. And o'er and o'er + Through her weird song fall echoes from that lore + That lived when Time was young, e'er yet the rime + Of years lay on his brow. In that far prime + Nature and man, couched 'neath God's earliest sky, + Heard clear-voiced spheres chant Earth's first lullaby. + Now, in the blast loud sings the Finn, and long, + Nor knows that faint through her wild cradle-song + Yet sweetly thrills the vanished Elf-babes' cry, + Nor dreams, as low she croons her lullaby, + Still breathes through that sweet, lingering refrain + Lilith the childless--and to life again, + To love, she wakes. + The soft strain clearer rings + As through the gathering storm that mother sings: + + Pile the strong fagot, + Pale Lilith comes! + Wild through the murky air goblin voices shout. + Hark! Hearest thou not their lusty rout? + Lilith comes! + Listen, my babe! + + See how the dusk pines + Tremble and crouch; + Over wide wastes borne, white are the snow-wreaths blown, + And loud the drear icy fjords shudder and moan; + Lilith comes! + Listen, my babe! + + Ah! Hear the wild din, + Fierce o'er the linn, + The sea-gull, affrighted, soars seaward away, + And dark on the shores falls the wind-driven spray; + Lilith comes! + Listen, my babe! + + The shuddering ice + Shivers. It cracks! + Like a wild beast in pain, it cries to the wrack + Of the storm-cloud overhead. The sea answers back-- + Dread Lilith comes! + Listen, my babe! + + Near draws the wraith fair, + Dull gleams her hair. + Ah, strong one, so cruel--fierce breath of the North-- + The torches of heaven are lighting thee forth! + Fell Lilith comes! + Listen, my babe! + + Cold spirit of Snow, + Ah, I fear thee! + The sports of my hunter, the white fox, the bear, + The spoils of our rivers are thine. Ah, then spare, + Dread Lilith, spare + The babe at my breast! + + Mercy, weird Lilith! + Even sleeping, + My babe lies so chill. See, the reindeer I give! + Ah, lift thy dark wings, that my darling may live! + Pale Lilith comes! + Listen, my babe! + + Once, in the Northland, + Pale crocus grew + By half-wakened stream. It lay shriveled and low + Ere the spring-time had come, in soft shroud of snow. + Sad Lilith comes! + Listen, my babe! + + Foul Vampire, drain not + From my loved one + The life-current red. O Demon, art breaking + My heart while I plead? Ah, babe! Art thou waking? + Lilith, I live! + Closer my babe! + + Far o'er the dun wold, + Baby, behold + 'Mid the mist and the snow, fast, fast, and more fast-- + In the teeth of the blast--flies Lilith at last. + Pale Lilith flies! + Nearer, my babe! + + By Ganges still the Indian mother weaves + Above her babe her mat of plantain leaves, + And laughing, plaits. Or pausing, sweet and low + Her voice blends with the river's drowsy flow; + The while she fitful sings that old, old strain, + Forgetting that the love, the deathless pain + Of wandering Lilith lives and throbs again + When falls the tricksy Elf-babes' mocking cry + Faintly across her crooning lullaby-- + + Ah, happy babe, that here may sleep + Where the blue river winds along, + And sweet the trysting bulbuls keep + The night o'er-brimmed with pulsing song. + + Not so, mine own, as legends tell, + In lands remote, beyond the day, + The soulless babes of Lilith dwell, + Or vanish 'mong the cold mists gray. + + Or oft in elfin glee they ride + O'er burning deserts blown adrift, + Or singing idly, idly glide + Afar beyond Night's purple rift. + + But thou, my babe, for thee shall grow + The lilies, nodding by the stream; + For thee, the poppy's sleepy glow; + For thee, the jonquil's pallid gleam. + + My baby, sleep! Against the sky + The pippul lifts its trembling crest. + O baby, hush each wailing cry, + Close to the holy river's breast. + + Not here shall come that pale wraith fair, + Who, wandering once in Northern lands, + Bore o'er long reaches sere and bare + The death-flower white, for baby hands. + + Fear not, mine own, the Elf-babes shrill, + Nor Lilith tall, with brow of snow. + They may not haunt thy slumbers still + Where Ganges' sacred waters flow. + + Where coral reefs gnaw with white cruel teeth + The yellow surf, and the torn billows seethe-- + When shines the Southern Cross o'er placid isles, + The Afric mother sits, and singing, smiles, + Unheeding that a dead world's hidden pain + Beats wildly rhythmic through her pure refrain, + And lingers softly still an echoed sigh + Low in Earth's cradle-song--sweet lullaby. + A warning song of doom--a song of woe, + Of terror wild, she sings, down bending low, + The while bright gleams the Starry Cross above + Yet tells to her no tale of tender love + Of Him who lifteth after-time a cross + That healeth all the wide world's sin and loss. + + Ah, linger no longer 'mong blooms of the mangoes, + Nor pluck the bright shells by the low sighing sea, + Swift, swift, through the groves of the palms and acacias + Comes Lilith, the childless one, seeking for thee. + She will bind thee so fast in her yellow-gold hair-- + Ah, hasten, my children, of Lilith beware! + + Cold, cold are her cheeks as the spray of the wild sea, + Red, red are her lips as the pomegranate's bloom; + Cold, cold are the kisses the phantom will give thee, + Ah, cruel her kisses, that smell of the tomb. + Hist, hist! 'tis the sorceress with yellow-gold hair-- + Oh! lullaby, baby--of Lilith beware. + + She flies to the jungle, with false tales beguiling, + Ah, hear'st thou her elfin babes scream overhead! + Close, close in her strong arms she bears my babe, smiling; + She hath sucked the soft bloom from the lips of my dead. + Now far speeds the vampire, with yellow-gold hair-- + Oh! lullaby, baby--of Lilith beware! + + Art frighted, my baby? Nay, then, thy mother + Low singing enfolds thee all safe from the snare; + Afar flit the Elf-babes 'mid gray, misty shadows, + Afar flees the temptress with yellow-gold hair. + Ah, heed not her songs in the still slumbrous air-- + Oh! lullaby, baby--of Lilith beware! + + When hawthorn-trees sift thick their rifted snow, + The English mother o'er her babe sings low; + Where red the cross burns on the ivied fane, + Unwitting, pagan Lilith lives again-- + And softer sings, nor feels the wailing pain + Still faintly surging through that low refrain; + Nor dreams she hears Love's early cradle cry + Slow echoing through Earth's song--sweet lullaby-- + And in the shadow of that cross, her strain + Breathes sweetly; love, and hope, and ended pain. + Softlier while that small arm closely clings + About her heart, that mother peaceful sings: + + O babe, my babe, the light doth fade! + My baby, sleep, while I do keep + Close watch, where thou art lowly laid. + Sweet dreams shall steep thy slumber deep. + Ah, little feet, be still at last-- + Rest all the night, for day is past; + One watches thee from yon blue sky, + One watching here sings lullaby, + Lullaby; + Sings lullaby. + + Here on his bed the sunny head + Lies still; and soft the brown eyes close; + Sweet steals the breath, 'twixt lips as red, + As dewy fresh, as new-born rose. + O little lips, be hushed at last; + Fear naught, sweetheart, though day be past. + One looks adown from yon far sky, + One close beside, sings lullaby, + Lullaby; + Sings lullaby. + + + + +[Illustration] + +_"Ideal American magazines!"_ + +=It is a fact= acknowledged by the English press that American +magazines, by enterprise, able editorship, and liberal expenditure for +the finest of current art and literature, have won a rank far in advance +of European magazines. + +=It is also a fact= that for young people + +WIDE AWAKE + +_Stands foremost_ } _In pleasure giving!_ + } _In practical helping!_ + +Each year's numbers contain a _thousand quarto pages_, covering the +widest range of literature of interest and value to young people, from +such authors as John G. Whittier, Charles Egbert Craddock, Mrs. A. D. T. +Whitney, Susan Coolidge, Edward Everett Hale, Arthur Gilman, Edwin +Arnold, Rose Kingsley, Dinah Mulock Craik, Margaret Sidney, Helen Hunt +Jackson (H. H.), Harriet Beecher Stowe, Elbridge S. Brooks and hundreds +of others; and _half a thousand illustrations_ by F. H. Lungren, W. T. +Smedley, Miss L. B. Humphrey, F. S. Church, Mary Hallock Foote, F. +Childe Hassam, E. H. Garrett, Hy. Sandham and other leading American +artists. + +=ONLY $3.00 A YEAR. PROSPECTUS FREE.= + +WIDE AWAKE is the official organ of the C. Y. F. R. U. The Required +Readings are also issued simultaneously as the CHAUTAUQUA YOUNG FOLKS' +JOURNAL, with additional matter, at 75 cents a year. + + +=For the younger Boys and Girls and the Babies:= + +[Illustration] Our Little Men and Women, + +With its 75 full-page pictures a year, and numberless smaller, and its +delightful stories and poems, is most admirable for the youngest +readers. + +$1.00 _a year._ + + +[Illustration] Babyland + +Never fails to carry delight to the babies and rest to the mammas, with +its large beautiful pictures, its merry stories and jingles, in large +type, on heavy paper. + +50 _cts. a year._ + + +[Illustration] The Pansy, + +Edited by the famous author of the "Pansy Books," is equally charming +and suitable for week-day and Sunday reading. Always contains a serial +by "Pansy." + +$1.00 _a year._ + +[index] _Send for specimen copies, circulars, etc., to the Publishers,_ + +D. LOTHROP & CO., BOSTON, MASS., U. S. A. + + + + + "PANSY" BOOKS. + + +Probably no living author has exerted an influence upon the American +people at large, at all comparable with Pansy's. Thousands upon +thousands of families read her books every week, and the effect in the +direction of right feeling, right thinking, and right living is +incalculable. + +Each volume 12mo. Cloth. Price, $1.50. + +FOUR GIRLS AT CHAUTAUQUA. +CHAUTAUQUA GIRLS AT HOME. +RUTH ERSKINE'S CROSSES. +ESTER RIED. +JULIA RIED. +KING'S DAUGHTER. +WISE AND OTHERWISE. +ESTER RIED "YET SPEAKING." +LINKS IN REBECCA'S LIFE. +FROM DIFFERENT STANDPOINTS. +THREE PEOPLE. +HOUSEHOLD PUZZLES. +MODERN PROPHETS. +ECHOING AND RE-ECHOING. +THOSE BOYS. +THE RANDOLPHS. +TIP LEWIS. +SIDNEY MARTIN'S CHRISTMAS. +DIVERS WOMEN. +A NEW GRAFT. +THE POCKET MEASURE. +MRS. SOLOMON SMITH. +THE HALL IN THE GROVE. +MAN OF THE HOUSE. +AN ENDLESS CHAIN. + +Each volume 12mo. Cloth. Price, $1.25. + +CUNNING WORKMEN. +GRANDPA'S DARLING. +MRS. DEAN'S WAY. +DR. DEAN'S WAY. +MISS PRISCILLA HUNTER and +MY DAUGHTER SUSAN. +WHAT SHE SAID and +PEOPLE WHO HAVEN'T TIME. + +Each volume 16mo. Cloth. Price, $1.00. + +NEXT THINGS. +PANSY SCRAP BOOK. +FIVE FRIENDS. +MRS. HARRY HARPER'S AWAKENING. +NEW YEAR'S TANGLES. +SOME YOUNG HEROINES. + +Each volume 16mo. Cloth. Price, $.75. + +GETTING AHEAD. +TWO BOYS. +SIX LITTLE GIRLS. +PANSIES. +THAT BOY BOB. +JESSIE WELLs. +DOCIA'S JOURNAL. +HELEN LESTER. +BERNIE'S WHITE CHICKEN. +MARY BURTON ABROAD. +SIDE BY SIDE. + +Price, $.60. + +The Little Pansy Series, 10 vols. Boards, $3.00. Cloth, $4.00. +Mother's Boys and Girls' Library, 12 vols. Quarto Boards, $3.00. +Pansy Primary Library, 30 vol. Cloth. Price, $7.50. +Half Hour Library. Octavo, 8 vols. Price, $3.20. + + + + + By CHARLOTTE M. YONGE. + + +YOUNG FOLKS' HISTORY OF GERMANY, 12 mo. Cloth. $1.50 + " " " " GREECE, " " 1.50 + " " " " ROME, " " 1.50 + " " " " ENGLAND, " " 1.50 + " " " " FRANCE, " " 1.50 + " " " " BIBLE, " " 1.50 + +[index] _The above six volumes, are bound in Half Russia. Per vol._ 2.00 + + +THE LITTLE DUKE: Richard the Fearless. 12 mo. Cloth. 1.25 + +LANCES OF LYNWOOD: Chivalry in England. 12 mo. Cloth. 1.25 + +PRINCE AND PAGE: The Last Crusade. 12 mo. Cloth. 1.25 + +GOLDEN DEEDS: Brave and Noble Actions. 12 mo. Cloth. 1.25 + + +LITTLE LUCY'S WONDERFUL GLOBE. Sq. 16 mo. Cloth. 1.25 + + +[asterism] For sale by all Booksellers. Sent post-paid, on receipt of +price, by + +D. LOTHROP & CO., BOSTON, MASS. + + + + + MRS. DIAZ'S WRITINGS. + + +THE WILLIAM HENRY BOOKS. + +THE WILLIAM HENRY LETTERS. +WILLIAM HENRY AND HIS FRIENDS. +LUCY MARIA. + +Each in one 16mo volume, beautifully illustrated and bound. Price per +volume, $1.00. The set in a neat box, $3.00. + + +A STORY-BOOK FOR THE CHILDREN. + +Illustrated. 16mo. $1.00. + + +THE JIMMYJOHNS. POLLY COLOGNE. + +Each volume illustrated. 16mo. $1.00. + + +DOMESTIC PROBLEMS. + +WORK AND CULTURE IN THE HOUSEHOLD, AND THE SCHOOLMASTER'S TRUNK. + +Two volumes in one. Illustrated. 16mo. $1.00. + + +HOLIDAY BOOKS. + +CHRISTMAS MORNING. + +180 Illustrations. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50 Bds., $1.25. + + +KING GRIMALKUM AND PUSSYANITA; OR, THE CATS' ARABIAN NIGHTS. + +Illustrated. Quarto. Cover in colors. $1.25. + + +[asterism] _For sale by all Booksellers. Sent, postpaid, on receipt of +price, by_ + +D. LOTHROP & CO., 32 FRANKLIN STREET, BOSTON. + + + + + THE HOMESPUN SERIES. + + BY + + SOPHIA HOMESPUN. + + +RUTHIE SHAW: Or, _The Good Girl._ 16mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Price, +$1.00. + +MUCH FRUIT. 16mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Price $1.00. + +BLUE EYED JIMMY: _Or, The Good Boy._ 16mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Price, +$1.00. + +JOHNNY JONES: _Or, The Bad Boy._ 16mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Price, $1.00. + +NATTIE NESMITH: _Or, The Bad Girl._ 16mo. Cloth. Illustrated. Price, +$1.00. + + +Either or all of the above sent by mail, post-paid, on receipt of price. + +D. LOTHROP AND COMPANY. + +30 & 32 _Franklin St., Boston_ + +May be obtained of Booksellers. + + + + + WRITINGS OF ELLA FARMAN, + + EDITOR OF WIDE AWAKE. + + +Ella Farman teaches art no less than letters; and what is more than both +stimulates a pure imagination and wholesome thinking. In her work there +is vastly more culture than in the whole schooling supplied to the +average child in the average school.--_New York Tribune._ + +The authoress, Ella Farman, whose skilful editorial management of "Wide +Awake" all acquainted with that publication must admire, shows that her +great capacity to amuse and instruct our growing youth can take a wider +range. Her books are exceedingly interesting, and of that fine moral +tone which so many books of the present day lack.--_The Times, Canada._ + + +A LITTLE WOMAN. Illustrated. 12mo. $1.00 +A GIRL'S MONEY. Illustrated. 12mo. 1.00 +GRANDMA CROSBY'S HOUSEHOLD. Illustrated. 12mo. 1.00 +GOOD-FOR-NOTHING POLLY. Illustrated. 12mo. 1.00 +HOW TWO GIRLS TRIED FARMING. Illustrated. 12mo. 1.00 +COOKING CLUB OF TU-WHIT HOLLOW. Illustrated. 12mo. 1.25 +MRS. HURD'S NIECE. Illustrated. 12mo. 1.50 +ANNA MAYLIE. Illustrated. 12mo. 1.50 +A WHITE HAND. Illustrated. 12mo. 1.50 + + +The above set of nine volumes will be furnished at $10.00. + +[asterism] _For sale by all Booksellers. Sent by mail, post-paid, by_ + +D. LOTHROP & CO., FRANKLIN ST., BOSTON + + + + + BOOKS BY E. A. RAND. + + SCHOOL AND CAMP SERIES. + + +_Each volume, 12mo, price_, $1.25. + +This series gives the experience of "Big Brother" Dave Allen at the +Academy; Roy Allen in his dory, the _Sunbeam_, in Boston Harbor; Ruth +Atherton as teacher, and Beth Allen as pupil at the country schoolhouse, +Little Brown-Top. + +PUSHING AHEAD; OR, BIG BROTHER DAVE. +ROY'S DORY AT THE SEA-SHORE. +LITTLE BROWN-TOP, AND THE PEOPLE UNDER IT. + + +BARK CABIN SERIES. + +_Each volume, 12mo, price_, $1.00. + +Here we find the mountain camp-experience of the merry family, the +captain, his daughters, the vivacious Rob, and the irrepressible +servant-boy, Jule. + +BARK-CABIN ON MOUNT KEARSARGE. +THE TENT IN THE NOTCH. + + +AFTER THE FRESHET. + +12_mo, price_, $1.25. + +Arthur Manley whom a villain tries to ruin, is the hero of this book. + + + + + BOOKS + + SELECTED FROM + + D. Lothrop & Co.'s Catalogue. + + +John S. C. Abbott. + History of Christianity. 12mo, cloth, illust., $2.00. + +Nehemiah Adams. + At Eventide. 12mo, cloth, $1.25. + Agnes and the Little Key. 12mo, cloth, $1.00. + Bertha. 12mo, cloth, $1.00. + Broadcast. 12mo, cloth, $1.00. + Christ a Friend. 12mo, cloth, $1.00. + Communion Sabbath. 12mo, cloth, $1.25. + Catherine. 12mo, cloth, $1.25. + Cross in the Cell. 12mo, cloth, $1.00. + Endless Punishment. 12mo, cloth, $1.00. + Evenings with the Doctrines. 12mo, cloth, $1.00. + Friends of Christ, 12mo, cloth, $1.00. + Under the Mizzen-mast. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + +Lydia Maria Child. + Jamie and Jennie. 16mo, cloth, illust., $.75. + Boy's Heaven. 16mo, cloth, illust., $.75. + Making Something. 16mo, cloth, illust., $.75. + Good Little Mittie. 16mo, cloth, illust., $.75. + The Christ Child. 16mo, cloth, illust., $.75. + +Col. Russell H. Conwell. + Bayard Taylor. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50. + +Lizzie W. Champney. + Entertainments. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + +Abby Morton Diaz. + Story Book for children. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + William Henry and his Friends. 12mo, illust., $1.00. + William Henry Letters. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + Polly Cologne. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + Lucy Maria. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + The Jimmyjohns. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + Domestic Problems. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + King Grimalkum. 4to, boards, illust., $1.25. + Christmas Morning. 12mo, illust., b'ds, $1.25; cloth, $1.50. + +Julia A. Eastman. + Kitty Kent. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50. + Young Rick. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50. + The Romneys of Ridgemont. 12mo, illust., $1.50. + Striking for the Right. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.75. + School Days of Beulah Romney. Illust., $1.50. + Short Comings and Long Goings. 12mo, $1.25. + +Ella Farman. + Anna Maylie. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50. + A Little Woman. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + A White Hand. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50. + A Girl's Money. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + Grandma Crosby's Household. 12mo, cloth, il., $1.00. + Good-for-Nothing Polly. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + How two Girls tried Farming. 12mo, paper, $.50; cloth, $1.00. + The Cooking Club. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.25. + Mrs. Hurd's Niece. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50. + +A. A. Hopkins. + Waifs and their Authors. Plain, $2.00; gilt, $2.50. + John Bremm: His Prison Bars. 12mo, cloth, $1.25. + Sinner and Saint. 12mo, cloth, $1.25. + Our Sabbath Evening. 16mo, cloth, $1.25. + +E. E. Hale and Miss Susan Hale. + A Family Flight through France, Germany, Norway and Switzerland. + Octavo, cloth, illust., $2.50. + +Lothrop's Library of Entertaining History. + Edited by ARTHUR GILMAN. + + India, by FANNIE ROPER FEUDGE. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50; + half Russia, $2.00. + Egypt, by MRS. CLARA ERSKINE CLEMENT. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50; + half Russia, $2.00. + Spain, by PROF. JAMES H. HARRISON. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50; + half Russia, $2.00. + Switzerland, by MISS H. D. S. MACKENZIE. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50; + half Russia, $2.00. + +George MacDonald. + Warlock o' Glenwarlock. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.75. + Seaboard Parish. 12mo, cloth, $1.75. + Thomas Wingfold, Curate. 12mo, illust., $1.75. + Annals of a Quiet Neighborhood. 12mo, $1.75. + Princess Rosamond. Quarto, board, illust., $.50. + Double Story. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + +George E. Merrill. + Story of the Manuscripts. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + Battles Lost and Won. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50. + +Elias Nason. + Henry Wilson. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50. + Originality. 16mo, cloth, $.50. + +Pansy. (Mrs. G. R. Alden.) + 12_mo_, _cloth_, $1.50 _Each._ + + A New Graft on the Family Tree. + Chautauqua Girls at Home (The). + Divers Women. + Echoing and Re-echoing. + Ester Ried. + Four Girls at Chautauqua. + From Different Standpoints. + Hall in the Grove. + Household Puzzles. + Julia Ried. + King's Daughter. + Links in Rebecca's Life. + Modern Prophets. + Pocket Measure (The). + Randolphs (The). + Ruth Erskine's Crosses. + Sidney Martin's Christmas. + Those Boys. + Tip Lewis and his Lamp. + Three People. + Wise and Otherwise. + + 12_mo_, _cloth_, $1.25 _Each._ + + Cunning Workmen. + Dr. Deane's Way. + Grandpa's Darlings. + Miss Priscilla Hunter and My Daughter Susan. + Mrs. Deane's Way. + Pansy Scrap Book. (Former title, the Teachers' Helper.) + What She Said, and What she Meant. + + + 12_mo_, _cloth_, $1.00 _Each._ + + Next Things. + Some Young Heroines. + Mrs. Harry Harper's Awakening. + Five Friends. + + 12_mo_, _cloth_, 75 cts. _Each._ + + Bernie's White Chicken. + Docia's Journal. + Getting Ahead. + Helen Lester. + Jessie Wells. + Six Little Girls. + That Boy Bob. + Two Boys. + Mary Burton Abroad. + + Pansy's Picture Book. 4to, board, $1.50; cloth, $2.00. + The Little Pansy Series. 10 volumes. Boards, $3.00; cloth, $4.00. + +Nora Perry. + Bessie's Trials at Boarding-school. 12mo, $1.25. + +Austin Phelps. + The Still Hour. 16mo, cloth, $.60; gilt, $1.00. + Work of the Holy Spirit. 16mo, cloth, $1.25. + +Edward A. Rand. + Roy's Dory. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.25. + Pushing Ahead. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.25. + After the Freshet. 12mo, cloth, $1.25. + All Aboard for Sunrise Lands. Illust., boards, $1.75; cloth, $2.25. + Tent in the Notch. 16mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + Bark Cabin. 16mo, cloth, illust., $1.00. + +Margaret Sidney. + Five Little Peppers. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50. + Half Year at Bronckton. 12mo, cloth, $1.25. + Pettibone Name. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.25. + So As by Fire. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.25. + +Spare Minute Series. + Edited by E. E. BROWN. + Thoughts that Breathe. (Dean Stanley). $1.00. + Cheerful Words. (George MacDonald). $1.00. + The Might of Right. (W. E. Gladstone). $1.00. + True Manliness. (Thos. Hughes). 12mo, cloth, $1.00. + +Wide Awake Pleasure Book. + Edited by ELLA FARMAN. + Bound volumes A to M. Chromo cover, $1.50; full cloth, $2.00. + +T. D. Wolsey, D.D., LL. D. + Helpful Thoughts for Young Men. 12mo, $1.25. + +Kate Tannatt Woods. + Six Little Rebels. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50. + Doctor Dick. 12mo, cloth, illust., $1.50. + +C. M. Yonge. + 12mo, illustrated. + Young Folks' History of Germany. $1.50. + Young Folks' History of Greece. $1.50. + Young Folks' History of Rome. $1.50. + Young Folks' History of England. $1.50. + Young Folks' History of France. $1.50. + Young Folks' Bible History. $1.50. + Lances of Lynwood. 12mo, illust., $1.25. + Little Duke. 12mo, illust., $1.25. + Golden Deeds. 12mo, illust., $1.25. + Prince and Page. 12mo, illust., $1.25. + Little Lucy's Wonderful Globe. Boards, $.75; cloth, $1.00. + + + + + MARGARET SIDNEY'S BOOKS. + + +Margaret Sidney may be safely set down as one of the best writers of +juvenile literature in the country.--_Boston Transcript._ + +Margaret Sidney's books are happily described as "strong and pure from +cover to cover,... bright and piquant as the mountain breezes, or a dash +on pony back of a June morning." The same writer speaks of her as "An +American authoress who will hold her own in the competitive good work +executed by the many bright writing women of to-day." + +There are few better story writers than Margaret Sidney.--_Herald and +Presbyter._ + + +=Comments of the Secular and Religious Press=. + + +FIVE LITTLE PEPPERS AND HOW THEY GREW. + +A charming work.... The home scenes in which these little Peppers are +engaged are capitally described.... Will find prominent place among the +higher class of juvenile presentation books.--_Religious Herald._ + +One of the best told tales given to the children for some time ... The +perfect reproduction of child-life in its minutest phases, catches one's +attention at once.--_Christian Advocate._ + +A good book to place in the hands of every boy or girl.--Chicago +_Inter-Ocean._ + + +SO AS BY FIRE. + +Will be hailed with eager delight, and found well worth +reading.--_Christian Observer._ + +An admirable Sunday-school book--_Arkansas Evangel._ + +We have followed with intense interest the story of David Folsom ... A +man poor, friendless, and addicted to drink;... the influence of little +Cricket;... the faithful care of aunt Phebe; all steps by which he +climbed to higher manhood.--_Woman at Work._ + + +THE PETTIBONE NAME. + +It is one of the finest pieces of American fiction that has been +published for some time.--_Newsdealers' Bulletin_, New York. + +It ought to attract wide attention from the simplicity of its style, and +the vigor and originality of its treatment.--_Chicago Herald._ + +This is a capital story illustrating New England life.--_Inter-Ocean_, +Chicago. + +The characters of the story seem all to be studies from life.--_Boston +Post._ + +It is a New England tale, and its characters are true to the original type, +and show careful study and no little skill in portraiture.--_Christian +at Work_, New York. + +To be commended to readers for excellent delineations, sparkling style, +bright incident and genuine interest.--_The Watchman._ + +A capital story; bright with excellent sketches of character. Conveys +good moral and spiritual lessons ... In short, the book is in every way +well done.--_Illustrated Christian Weekly._ + + +HALF YEAR AT BRONCKTON. + +A live boy writes: "This is about the best book that ever was written or +ever can be." + +"This bright and earnest story ought to go into the hands of every boy +who is old enough to be subjected to the temptations of school life." + + +D. LOTHROP & CO., Publishers, Boston. + + + + + Books of the Celebrated Prize Series. + + +The preparation of this famous series was a happy inspiration. No books +for the young worthy of circulation have ever met so warm a welcome or +had a wider sale. The fact that each of them has passed the criticism of +a committee of clergymen of different denominations, men of high +scholarship, excellent literary taste, wide observation, and rare good +judgment, is a commendation in itself sufficient to secure for these +books the widest welcome. The fact that they are found, in every +instance, to be fully worthy of such high commendation, accounts for +their continued and increasing popularity. + + +=The $1000 prize Books.= A fresh edition in new style of binding. + +16 vols. 12mo. $24.50 + + +=The New $500 Prize Series.= A fresh edition in new style of binding. + +13 vols. 12mo. $16.75 + + +=The Original $500 Prize Series.= A fresh edition in new style of +binding. + +8 vols. 12mo. $12.00 + + +The Original $500 Prize Stories. + +Andy Luttrell. $1.50. +Shining Hours. $1.50. +Master and Pupil. $1.50. +May Bell. $1.50. +Sabrina Hackett. $1.50. +Aunt Matty. $1.50. +Light from the Cross. $1.50. +Contradictions. $1.50. + + +New $500 Prize Series. + +Short-Comings and Long-Goings. $1.25. +Lute Falconer. $1.50. +Hester's Happy Summer. $1.25. +One Year of My Life. $1.25. +Building-Stones. $1.25. +Susy's Spectacles. $1.25. +The Flower by the Prison. $1.25. +Trifles. $1.25. +The Judge's Sons. $1.50. +Daisy Seymour. $1.25. +Olive Loring's Mission. $1.25. +The Torch-Bearers. $1.25. +The Trapper's Niece. $1.25. + + +The $1000 Prize Series. + +Striking for the Right. $1.75. +Walter Macdonald. $1.50. +The Wadsworth Boys. $1.50. +Silent Tom. $1.75. +The Blount Family. $1.50. +The Marble Preacher. $1.50. +Evening Rest. $1.50. +Margaret Worthington. $1.50. +Coming to the Light. $1.50. +Ralph's Possession. $1.50. +Sunset Mountain. $1.50. +The Old Stone House. $1.50. +Golden Lines. $1.50. +Luck of Alden Farm. $1.50. +Glimpses Through. $1.50. +Grace Avery's Influence. $1.50. + + +D. LOTHROP & CO., Publishers, Boston. + + + + + Lothrop's Historical Library. + + EDITED BY ARTHUR GILMAN, M. A. + +AMERICAN PEOPLE. By Arthur Gilman, M. A. +INDIA. By Fannie Roper Feudge. +EGYPT. By Mrs. Clara Erskine Clement. +CHINA. By Robert K. Douglas. +SPAIN. By Prof. James Herbert Harrison. +SWITZERLAND. By Miss Harriet D. S. MacKenzie. +JAPAN, and its Leading Men. By Charles Lanman. +ALASKA: The Sitkan Archipelago. By Eliza Ruhamah Scidmore. + +Other volumes in preparation. + + +_Each volume_ 12_mo, Illustrated, cloth_, $1.50. + + +D. LOTHROP & CO., Publishers, + +Franklin and Hawley Streets, Boston. + + + + + Spare Minute Series. + + +THOUGHTS THAT BREATHE. + +From Dean Stanley. Introduction by Phillips Brooks. + + +CHEERFUL WORDS. + +From George MacDonald. Introduction by James T. Fields. + + +THE MIGHT OF RIGHT. + +From Rt. Hon. Wm. E. Gladstone. Introduction by John D. Long, LL. D. + + +TRUE MANLINESS. + +From Thomas Hughes. Introduction by Hon. James Russell Lowell. + + +LIVING TRUTHS. From Charles Kingsley. Introduction by W. D. Howells. + + +RIGHT TO THE POINT. + +From Theodore L. Cuyler, D. D. Introduction by Newman Hall, LL. B. + + +MANY COLORED THREADS. + +From Goethe. Introduction by Alexander McKenzie, D.D. + + +_Each volume_, 12_mo_, _cloth_, $1.00. + + +D. LOTHROP & CO., Publishers, + +Franklin and Hawley Streets, Boston. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Lilith, by Ada Langworthy Collier + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LILITH *** + +***** This file should be named 24679-8.txt or 24679-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/6/7/24679/ + +Produced by Irma Spehar, Markus Brenner and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. |